Wolverine Rebirth: Origins
by MarvelHero1610
Summary: After being captured while on the run from Weapon X, Wolverine is forced to relive all of his traumatic memories but why? What horrific secrets lie in his past that could affect the present world? Marvel Rebirth AU.
1. Prologue

A/N: Welcome readers! This is MarvelHero1610 (formerly known as Soul of Sasuke). I am excited to introduce to you the second story into my Marvel Rebirth Universe. Please enjoy this introduction/prologue and review! Special thanks to my Marvel mentor, **MarvelMaster616**.

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><p><strong><em>Sometime in the near-future...<em>**

Footsteps. Heartbeats. Radio chatter. The checking of ammo. The soft and shallow breaths of frightened men. These sounds echoed throughout the abandoned and dilapidated building that the mutant sat in, waiting. He had been running across the country for days, trying to get to the west coast. Armed men had been chasing him the entire way. Running was getting him absolutely nowhere with these men. They were persistent and always were able to track him. And he thought he was the greatest tracker in the world. The footsteps began to grow increasingly louder and the smell of the men was beginning to circle around in the mutant's brain. Slowly, he moved towards a wall that divided the hallway. After he had made his way towards it, the mutant pressed his ear onto the wall and listened. He heard a deep breath and then silence.

Without hesitation, the mutant drove his fist into the wall, unleashing a trio of foot long metal claws from his knuckles that buried themselves into the soldier's brain. The mutant pulled his claws out of the man's skull and shook his hand of the blood and brain matter. The mutant rounded the wall and began to creep down the hallway silently. Up the hallway, he saw a light move from the left and then to the right as a group of men headed in his direction. Before he could turn the corner, the men had spotted.

"We have visual on target! Repeat, we have visual on target!" one yelled. The men began to fire down the hallway.

_Shit..._the mutant thought as he unsheathed his second set of claws and raced towards the men. Bullets ricocheted off the metal bones beneath his skin that had endured much more than 5.56 mm rounds. The men began to panic as they realized that their weapons were having no effect and the mutant leapt into the air, releasing a feral roar as he began his descent towards the men, claws first. The mutant sliced through the jugular of his first assailant, blood gushing from his throat. He then sent his claws crashing into his sternum, breaking it instantly and dislodging his heart from the rest of his body.

The mutant then leapt forward, sliding his claws through the second soldier's spine, separating his legs from the upper half of his body. When the mutant turned to the third man, an explosive round collided with the mutant's face, ripping through his face and exposing the metal skull underneath. The third soldier backed away in fear as the mutant's skull healed almost instantaneously.

"What the hell are you?" the soldier yelled. The mutant could smell and hear the urine that squeezed its way out of the soldier and stained his pants.

"You're huntin' me, bub. I guess that makes me an animal." the mutant replied as he swung his claws through the soldier's head. The mutant looked up quickly and raced down the hallway and headed towards the steps that lead to the lobby. The smell of soldiers grew stronger and the mutant stopped in front of the steps and looked down. The mutant growled softly and the men looked up in fear.

"Shit! It's Wolverine!"

"Fire! Fire! FIRE!"

Before the second command could be given, the mutant had already launched himself down the steps, claws unsheathed and teeth bore. The first slash severed a man's arm cleanly at the elbow and the second sent his head flying down towards his firing companions. The soldiers frantically fired up towards the mutant, the smell of fear embracing the feral man's nose. The mutant lunged forward again and landed on the ground floor and jammed his claws into the eye sockets of one soldier, slicing through the visor glass with ease. The remaining men fired shots and the mutant ran forward, using his victim as a shield to absorb most of the fire until the carcass was almost completely ripped apart.

The mutant threw the remains of the body to the side and ran forward as he prepared his final assault. The mutant elbowed a soldier's assault carbine downwards and then sent his elbow crashing into the soldier's throat. The mutant then roared and the two bewildered survivors could only stare as the mutant ran them through with his claws, eviscerating them both. The mutant stopped briefly only for the click of a cocked gun to ring in his ear. Another man stood in the door and the mutant roared his displeasure and ran towards the man, leaping in to the air and preparing to deliver the final blow. Then came the shot.

The bullet buried itself into the mutant's forehead, causing his trajectory to spin completely out of control and sending him corkscrewing into the cracked concrete below him. The mutant landed with a thud and moaned as his body was quickly attempting to heal itself as it would at any other time. But it didn't. There was still a gaping wound on the mutant's head, although bleeding had stopped. Before the mutant could muster the strength to rise to his feet, the shooter's shadow was over him and all the mutant could see was the barrel of the man's gun.

"I'll see you when you wake up, James." the man said as he pulled the trigger.

_James? Who the hell is James?_

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><p>Searing heat burned through the mutant's skin and his eyes burst open as a feral scream erupted from his throat. Luckily for him, his healing factor had already began to heal him and the mutant panted heavily as he attempted to break free from his captivity. However, the more he pulled, the more resistance he received from the chains. The mutant looked up and saw the man that had shot him standing in front of him.<p>

"Usually, you would throw cold water onto an unconscious human being to wake them. But seeing as though you're a mutant with the most powerful healing factor in existence, I was sure a little sodium hydroxide wouldn't bother you." the man said with a sadistic humor in his voice as he slowly rubbed his chin which had only the slightest inkling of black facial hair. The mutant growled.

"You sick bastard. Who the hell are you!" the mutant growled. The man shook his head.

"Really? You really don't remember anything?" the man asked. "I thought you would remember the man that put you through the most excruciating pain that any man could endure. I'm sure you remember the adamantium bonding, don't you?" the man asked. The mutant's scowl deepened.

"Tell me who the fuck you are!" he roared as he unsheathed his claws only for electricity to travel down the chains holding him and electrocute him. The voltage shot through the mutant's metal skeleton. The mutant quickly sheathed his claws and panted as his body healed his burnt and sizzling skin. The man smiled and waved his finger back and forth.

"That was merely a small voltage of 10,000 volts with amperage. There's enough power in this facility for 100,000 volts of electricity to shoot through your body, lighting you up like an Independence Day night sky if your claws stay out for longer than 30 seconds. And considering the fact that you bones are made of metal, a natural conductor for electricity, I'd avoid that." the man said. The mutant frowned. He could literally smell a lie from miles away and this conceited prick was most definitely not bluffing.

"What the hell do you want from me?" the mutant growled. The man began pace back and forth.

"There is something within your memory. Something you saw on a Weapon X mission that I need. The troublesome thing is, your body does more than regenerate physically. You have a very unique psychological healing and that has made finding your repressed memories difficult." The man stated. The mutant growled.

"You did it to me! Weapon X wiped my memory..." the mutant yelled.

"**YOU** may attribute it to Weapon X and the adamantium bonding but I know, even Xavier knew that it was because your brain repressed every traumatic event in your life. Everything from the numerous wars to the deaths of those close to you. Everything has been repressed by your brain. Weapon X had nothing to do with your blank mind, James." the man stated sternly. The mutant growled. The man kept calling him James. Who the hell was James? Was that what he called himself before he became Logan/Wolverine? Or was that his name from the very beginning?

"Well, if you knew it was so hard to get inside my brain, then why the hell would you waste soldiers tryin' to get to me?" the mutant spat.

"Because..." the man said as he smiled and typed in a few codes. Gas wheezed out of a small box and a metal helmet rose from it. "This is what will be your psychotherapy, James. A machine using a few blueprints stolen from Xavier when he created Cerebro. If Xavier could use Cerebro to detect mutants and even hear their thoughts, why not hyper-engineer this device to access a mutant's psyche? A brilliant plan that took thirty-five years to create when Xavier created Cerebro in less than three months." the man frowned slightly and then removed the helmet from the box.

"As you can imagine, it requires immense power to use this device and so I've been stripping mutants, specifically telepaths of their powers in order to make the machine functional. I've already used it on one mutant...and I'd like to warn you to watch your back...that is if I allow you to live after I get what I need." the man said with a slight chuckle. "The only qualm I have with this machine is that you must live through your memories in sequential order, starting from your first trauma...the awakening of the beast." the man moved close to the mutant, who could do nothing but growl as the man placed the device on his head and hooked it into the wall.

The machine began to whiz softly and quietly but the mutant's sensitive ears could hear the whizzing steadily picking up until finally the noise engulfed the room. The mutant began to scream loudly as he could feel the device tighten around his face and a cord slither into his ear. The cord jammed itself into the mutant's brain and buried deep inside his brain, wrapping itself around his hippocampus. The mutant felt the cord begin to wrap tighter and the mutant's vision began to phase out. The last thing the mutant could make out was the man sitting down at a computer screen.

And then darkness.


	2. Bestial Beginnings

**_"I been a lot of things in a lot of places...a sickly kid named James Howlett..."_**

**_- Wolverine (Earth-616)_**

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><p><strong>1847, Alberta, Canada<strong>

Coughing, sneezing and fever plagued the young seven year old's body as he shivered underneath the thick feather filled covers of his wooden frame bed. He had been sick since the morning. It happened every few days. His body would fight the fever and sickness off and then his immune system would very nearly shut down and he would get infected with sickness and it was always at it's worse during the night. James had grown used to it. He was used to the pampering that came with being sick by now. It was one of the only things that kept a smile on his face during his time of weakness.

"James! Are you alright, dear?" a voice called from outside of his room as the person knocked outside. James smiled. It was Rose. Rose was only three years his senior and the new servant that was sent in to take care of James by his mother and father.

"I'm not too good, Rose. Can you come in, please?" James called in a hoarse tone. The door opened and Rose entered. James' eyes widened and a smile rested gently on his face. Rose was beautiful with her fiery red hair that looked like it held the bright light of a Phoenix fire in its follicles and green eyes that were the color of pure emeralds. James was merely a child, but even he couldn't ignore her beauty.

"What do you need, Master James?" she asked sweetly.

"My head is hurting. Can you stay and rub it for a while?" James asked, locking his puppy dog gaze onto Rose's bright green eyes. Rose giggled softly.

"Ok, if that's what you want." Rose said as she sat down on the bed next to James and placed her soft, warm hand onto James' forehead and began to stroke it softly, running her hands through his black hair. James almost purred as Rose's hand traveled down his cheek. "You don't feel as warm as you were earlier, James." Rose noted. James nodded.

"It happens alot. I'm always getting sick out of nowhere." James said.

"Yes, your body does seem to have the strangest pattern in regards to your health." Rose said as she continued to stroke his head. James sighed.

"It's all better now that you're here." James said. Rose blushed slightly and then stood up.

"Are you hungry, Master James? Perhaps some soup?" she said. James nodded eagerly.

"Yes, please!" he said. James then coughed and sneezed. Rose dipped her head and headed out, closing the door behind her. James coughed softly and sniffled. A pecking sound at his window alerted him and he looked to his left and was shocked to see a blonde boy hanging onto the ledge. James rose from his bed and walked over to the window and opened it. The blonde boy leapt threw the window like a cat, landing on his feet perfectly. He then turned to James and smiled.

"You still sick, Jimmy?" he asked in a gruff tone. James coughed softly and then shrugged.

"Not as much." he replied. The blonde boy sniffed once and then sat on James' bed.

"Jimmy, ya lyin' ta me. You smell sicker than two naked whores lying in the snow." the boy laughed. James smiled. Douglass, or Dog as James called him, was James' best friend and son of the housekeeper, Thomas. The two had met when James had passed out from an allergy attack near a lake and fell in. Dog, who had been walking along at the time, leapt in and saved him from certain drowning and since then, he and James had been very close friends. James had always felt a deep connection with Dog, as if they were two of a kind, although James really couldn't find many similarities between them.

"I'm not lying." James said. He then wiped the sweat from his pale forehead. Dog shook his head.

"Ya don't have to lie fo' me, Jimmy. I can smell how sick ya are." Dog laughed. James folded his arms.

"Oh yeah? Well, if you're so good at smelling things, can you smell what's going on downstairs?" James asked. Dog smirked and shook his head.

"No, not really. It's too far downstairs." Dog replied. He then sniffed once. "Has Ms. Rose been in here?" he asked. James nodded.

"Yes, she was in here before you came in." James said with a sweet smile. Dog laughed.

"She's too ol' for ya, Jimmy." Dog replied. James shook his head.

"No! She's ten and I'm seven. That's...three years!"

"Three years means alot, kid." Dog answered. Dog then turned his ears towards the window and his eyes widened slightly in fear. "Damn...I've got to go, Jimmy. See ya tomorrow." he said as he leapt through the window and ran towards his house. James watched as Dog ran away. Was Dog right? Were three years a big difference? James heard the door begin to creak and he shut the window and dove into the bed. He rested his head against his pillow. Rose entered the room and James could smell the scent of chicken broth circling the room.

"Here's your supper, Master James." Rose said with a smile. James licked his lips and propped himself as he readied himself to eat.

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><p>Dog hit the ground face first, blood splattering across the room. Dog tried to will himself upwards slowly only to be assisted by a powerful hand gripping the back of his shirt. The hand threw him across the room, causing him to slam against the wall. Dog looked up in a daze and felt the hand grip his throat, squeezing tightly. The air slowly exhausted itself and Dog's eyes started to close.<p>

"What the hell did I tell you, boy?" a voice growled. Dog could smell the whiskey on the man's breath and his eyes watered as tears rolled down his face.

"You said not to mess wit' the Howletts." Dog sniffled, blood and mucus traveling up his nose rapidly. Dog shook in his shirt, sweat pouring through his pores.

"Right. Now why the hell aren't you listenin' to me, boy!" the man yelled as he sent his burly and hairy fist into Dog's face, hitting right between the eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, Poppa...b-but...the boy...James...he ain't so bad..." Dog whispered softly. Dog felt himself be lifted higher into the air, the pressure of the man's hands beginning to crush his throat.

"He...ain't so bad, huh?" the man growled as he squeezed Dog's throat tighter. "Is he worth losing ya goddamn neck?" Dog whimpered softly and gripped his father's hand.

"I'm sorry, Poppa..." Dog groaned softly. His father growled and dropped him to the ground and stared down at him, a scowl heavily indented on his face.

"So, I'm sure you'll be a good lad, now, eh?" his father said as he sat down at his wooden table, grabbing another bottle of whiskey and chugging it down. Dog nodded quickly.

"Y-yes, Poppa. I-I'll be good."

"You'll do what I say?"

"Yes sir." Thomas Logan rose from his chair and loomed over Dog and stared down at him. Dog shivered slightly and Thomas growled.

"Don't you ever associate wit' them Howlett folks again, understand? If you do, I'll beat you until your spineless just like them bastards." Thomas growled. Dog stared up at his father with a blank expression. Abandon James? The boy whose life he saved when they were small? He had grown up with James. How could he bear to not be with the boy he had adopted as his little brother? "Do ya hear me, boy!" Thomas yelled as he clamped his hands onto Dog's shoulder's sending a shocking amount of pain through Dog's body.

"Y-yes, Poppa...I-I promise." Dog replied. Thomas patted his son on the head and smiled.

"Good lad." he said. Dog looked up and saw a bottle of whiskey in his face. "Drink up. It'll make the pain leave." Dog gulped and took the bottle and began to drink.

**The Next Day...**

The morning sun had barely begun to creep above the horizon as James' eyes slowly opened. James jumped backwards slightly at the sight that beheld him. It was Dog, sitting at his window. When he heard James' moving, Dog turned towards him and sighed.

"Hey, Jimmy." Dog said softly. James wiped his eyes and yawned.

"Hey, Dog. Why're you here so early?" James inquired. From the look of the sky, it was only around six in the morning.

"My pa ain't up yet. He was real drunk last night so I had to come tell you something before he woke up." Dog replied. James sat up in his bed and waited for what Dog had to say. What adventure did he have planned for today? What mischief would they get into? "My pa says I can't be around you anymore." Dog said. James' face fell like a stone and he stared at Dog.

"Why?"

"He doesn't like ya'll...he doesn't like ya family. H-he thinks that ya'll are spineless and treat the servants like dirt, but I know that ain't true!" Dog said as he slammed James' bed with his fist. James looked at Dog strangely. He had never seen Dog show anything besides a stoic personality. This sudden outbreak of emotion shocked him .

"So does that mean we won't be friends anymore?" James asked.

"Hell no! I don't give a damn what my pa says. I know ya'll better than he does. We'll still be friends, Jimmy." Dog said with a smile. James looked at Dog and smiled.

"Do you promise?" James asked. Dog nodded.

"I promise, kid." he replied. Dog then turned to the window and listened and then jumped towards it. He turned back towards James and smiled. "See ya, Jimmy." James watched as Dog leapt from the window and landed on his feet and ran towards his house.

The next few hours were one of serious thought for James. The young Howlett wandered around the estate aimlessly, unable to find anything of interest to do. When he made his way to the living room, he saw father sitting in a large and heavily padded chair in front of the fireplace. A pipe hung casually from his mouth as smoke puffed out once every few minutes almost in synchronization with the turning of the pages of the book he was reading. James crept forward, clearing his throat to notify his father of his presence. John Howlett turned towards the sounds of his son and smiled.

"James, my boy! What're you doing awake at such an hour?" John asked as he sat his son on his knee.

"I wanted to see what you were doing, father." James said as he looked at John's book. John smiled.

"This is the family history of everyone who's been in our family since the French occupation of the area. One day, James, your name will be in this book as well. You may even have a special place within it if you take up the mantle of the head of the Howlett family business." John said as he looked into his son's curious eyes.

"What's the family business, father?" James asked. John smiled.

"Come with me on some trips and you'll see." John answered. James nodded and John took his hand and placed his finger on an empty spot inside the book. "When the day comes, your name will be here, son." James looked up at his father proudly and walked with him down the hall, the open and blank page laying exposed...

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><p><strong>1854, Alberta, Canada<strong>

James rushed across the open fields, enjoying the flow of the wind hitting his face and hair. The now fourteen year old Howlett had grown greatly physically. His immune system had grown stronger and his sickly phase had faded considerably since his time as a child. Made more clear by the fact that currently, he was outrunning Dog.

"So, ya think your fast, huh, Jimmy?" Dog said with a laugh. James turned and looked behind him and a smirk crept across his face.

"I'm only fast because I'm running to meet my father for our trip." By the time James had completed his statement, Dog was running with him, stride for stride.

"Well, I reckon I should be faster so I can save my skin." he said as he pushed ahead of James. James laughed and the two hopped over a log and stopped. James panted heavily and coughed as sweat dripped from his chin. Dog recovered in a matter of moments and looked down at James and shook his head. "I would've thought after all this time you would've stopped being so damn sick." Dog said. James looked at him and smiled.

"I've gotten much better, Dog. The weather doesn't bother me that much anymore." James said with a smile. Dog laughed.

"Get ya soft ass home, Jimmy. Ya papa's waitin' for you." Dog said. James nodded and walked across the field towards his house, leaving Dog standing in the middle of the meadow.

When James finally made it to the mansion, he was immediately showered and bathed by the maids who insisted that he be clean in order to go on the trip with his father. As James was being bathed, he thought on how his mother used to be bathe him so tenderly and lovingly. Those memories were very distant now. James hadn't seen his mother out in the open for nearly twelve years. It seemed that ever since his older brother disappeared, she had been so...distant and cold.

"C'mon, Master James! Get out! Out!" a maid said as she shooed him along. When James was pushed out of the bathroom, he fell into the arms (and bosom) of Rose, who clothed him quickly. James had noticed that Rose's beauty had increased tremendously over the last seven years. As James had grown older and stronger, his small crush on Rose began to develop into a deep affection that he could hardly explain to himself. The only problem with this was the fact that Rose had been showing more interest in Dog, who was the same age as her. There was some tension when all three were around each other as the younger James was incredibly interested in changing Rose's misconception on age.

"Hi, Rose." James said with a blush. Rose locked her eyes onto his and smiled.

"We don't have time for talking, I'm afraid. Your father is waiting for you." Rose replied, rushing James off towards his father. James stared back and waved to Rose and started outside towards his father. John Howlett greeted James with a warm smile and James climbed into the wagon with him.

"Where are we going, father?" James asked with a smile. John smiled.

"Oh, just down into the village to oversee some exports of fur. Shouldn't take too long. It's already the afternoon. We should be back by nightfall." John replied. James smiled.

"Ok, father."

**Later that day...**

Dog sat on top of a hill, overlooking the village down below where the commonfolk and servants lived. The moon lit up the sky and reflected beautifully of the lake in the distance. Dog would normally come up here to heal from the physical and emotional scars created by his father, but tonight he had an entirely different purpose. The scent of vanilla hit Dog's nose and he turned and smiled at what he saw. The scarlet-haired Rose walked down towards him, her plush pink lips parted in a wide smile. Before she even had a chance to sit down, Dog's lips were connected to hers. The two continued to kiss passionately for nearly a minute until finally Rose placed her small hands onto Dog's chest and laid her head onto his shoulder.

"This isn't right." she said softly. Dog looked down at her and a frown formed on his face.

"To hell wit' 'im. He ain't gonna stop me from marryin' you." Dog said.

"But if what your father said is concerning the entire Howlett Estate, wouldn't his threat to kill you also involve me?" Rose said with a worried look in her eyes. Dog scoffed.

"That old turd won't do a thing to me, darling." Dog said as he kissed Rose again. "I love you." The heat and tension from the words turned Rose's cheeks a bright red and she looked up at Dog.

"I love you too." she whispered softly. Dog leaned in to kiss Rose again but a distant sound alerted him. It was faint, but highly familiar. It was his father beginning to shuffle in the cabin.

"I gotta leave now, darling." Dog whispered. Rose nodded and after a quick peck, Dog was bounding down the hill towards his cabin. Dog approached the cabin quietly and cautiously opened the door. Inside, his father sat with four empty whiskey bottles around him and a half empty bottle hanging from his hand. Thomas Logan's eyes looked up and he growled.

"Where the hell have ya been, boy?"

"I was out." Dog replied swiftly. Thomas narrowed his eyes.

"What the hell do ya mean you were out? Ya better give me some damned good reasons why the hell you were outside at the damn Howlett Estate!" Thomas roared. A scowl sinked onto Dog's face and he balled his fist up tightly.

"I ain't gotta give you any damn reason why I went out! You ain't gonna control me no more!" Dog snapped. Thomas Logan's eyes widened and he rose from his seat in an angry rage. Before Dog could react, Thomas had crossed the room and sent his fist crashing into Dog's temple, sending the boy crashing into the ground.

"That last breath you took to disrespect me will be the last breaths you ever take, you little bastard!" Thomas yelled.

**Meanwhile...**

James and his father had just made it inside when John stopped the carriage and looked towards Thomas' cabin. James could hear the sounds of screaming and violence from inside the cabin and he immediately realized what was going on. Dog had been caught. John hopped off of the cabin and sent the carriage driver back down to the village and made his way to Thomas' cabin.

"Go home, son. I'll be there shortly." John said. James waited until his father had entered the cabin and then made his way to the front and watched from the outside. Thomas Logan's fists continued to crash down onto Dog, who was now curled up into a fetal position. John grabbed Thomas' hands and squeezed. "Thomas! For God's sake, don't beat this boy to such a degree that he's at death's door!" John said sternly. Suddenly, John lost his grip on Thomas' hand and Thomas sent his fist crashing into the bridge of John's nose.

"Get the hell out!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. John was knocked outside and fell to the ground, almost hitting James. John looked over at James and Thomas followed his eyes and saw the boy standing there. Thomas grinned sadistically and John groaned.

"James, get out of here, son!" he yelled.

"Son?" Thomas cackled loudly. He then picked John up from the ground and sent a shot into John's stomach. "That bitch pulled the sack over ya eyes, eh, 'Soft' John?" Thomas laughed as he hit John again.

"What the hell are you talking about, Logan!" John yelled. Thomas sent his knee into John's jaw and the man fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Thomas grabbed John by his hair and held his head up and looked at James who stared dumbfounded.

"Your poor beautiful wife just couldn't be satisfied by the likes of you. She came to me about fifteen years ago, cryin' because a man like you was too weak to handle a woman like her. Too weak to rid her of her sexual intentions." Thomas said as he slammed John's face into the dirt and lifted his head back up. "So I did your job for you. That boy over there ain't your damn son. He's my boy. As weak as he is, he still has that Logan face. Can't you tell?" Thomas said with a sadistic laugh, the whiskey on his breath nauseating John. Thomas began to swing another shot towards John but this time, James had seen enough.

"Leave my papa alone!" he yelled as he ran forward and shoved his shoulder into Thomas' chest. Thomas laughed and was about to grab James, but another set of hands grabbed him. James saw out the corner of his eye a bruised Dog who was attempting to tackle Thomas as well.

"Hell, my two sons workin' together to bring me down?" he said as he reached down into his pocket. James could only see the glint of the metal in the moonlit sky and Thomas shoved it forward. The knife pierced through James stomach and he cried out in pain as he slumped to the ground, holding his stomach. Blood gushed out of his stomach and Thomas looked down at the boy and smiled. "Since you're my son, you better be able to take what he can." Thomas said as he lifted Dog into the air and threw him onto the ground. Thomas began to make his way towards his cabin but a hand gripped his ankle. Thomas looked down and saw John, bloodied and battered, panting heavily as he stared up at Thomas.

"Logan..."

"Don't you dare say anything, you worthless turd!" Thomas said as he reached to his side and pulled out a Derringer pistol. James looked up from the ground and stared at his father who looked over towards him and smiled as tears rolled down his cheeks. Before he could even mouth "Goodbye", the shot was fired. The bullet buried through John's skull. Blood splattered against the fallen leaves and John's body immediately went limp.

James stared with widened eyes, his bottom lip quivering sporadically as he watched. His heart began to pound, adrenaline racing through his body. James opened his mouth and an inhuman howl rose from his throat, causing both Thomas and Dog to stare over at James, frightened. James felt something begin to shift inside his forearms and watched in terror as his skin rippled underneath. He felt something rigged and hard tear through the skin between his knuckles and his mouth widened as he saw three six inch bone claws emerge from his flesh, completely covered in blood. James stared at his hands and shook as if he was a pot at it's boiling point.

In a flash, James was running towards Thomas, howling the entire way. Thomas quickly attempted to reload his pistol only for James to shove both sets of claws into his abdomen. In his rage, James continued to shove his claws in and out rapidly, firing vicious and clawed uppercuts into Thomas' body. Thomas' entrails splattered over the ground, spraying blood and the remnants of liquor onto the ground and on James. James continued to howl in a feral fury as he unleashed his rage.

"James, stop!" a female voice cried. James whipped around, teeth and claws bared as he readied himself for another opponent. James felt arms wrap around him and he saw the thick red locks floating in front of his face. James panted heavily and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell to the ground. Rose held James in her arms, tears rushing down her face. Dog looked down James' stomach to check on his wound only for his face become blank. There was no wound. There was only the smallest indication of a scar on James' stomach. Dog stared down at him as a single thought raced through his mind.

_He really is my brother..._


	3. Losing Love

_"What the hell is this!" a female voice screamed. James was barely conscious as Dog and Rose entered the Howlett Estate. James' mother, Elizabeth had heard the howling outside and had come downstairs to check. It was obvious this was not what she wanted to see._

_"Lady Howlett, please snap out of your stupor. It is your son, James!" Rose cried. Elizabeth shook her head in utter disbelief._

_"No, t-that can't be my child." she muttered softly, as if she was talking to herself. Elizabeth's face was shaken and torn and Rose could almost feel her torment._

_"Lady Howlett, I know how you must feel, but believe me, this is your son." Rose said as she reached forward with her hand. Elizabeth turned around viciously and screamed._

_"THAT DAMNED** ABOMINATION **IS** NOT** MY SON!" she screeched as she dug her nails into her wrist and raked up her forearm, blood spurting onto Rose. Rose backed away and held up her hand. What had gotten into her? Had she gone mad?_

_"Madam, I need you to calm down!" Rose shouted. Elizabeth sprinted forward and grabbed Rose by her arms and stared deep into her eyes, hyperventilating madly as her eyes bore into Rose._

_"Don't you dare tell me about being 'calm'! 'Calm'! 'CALM'? YOU BE CALM AT A TIME LIKE THIS, YOU LITTLE PEASANT!" Elizabeth snapped, saliva flying from her mouth, hitting Rose in the face. Elizabeth walked away, shaking her head wildly as she continued to breakdown. Rose turned to Dog, who stood speechless and held James in his arms. His expression soon changed and Rose turned around and saw Elizabeth with a shotgun in her hand. She dragged it behind her, a blank and expressionless look plastered on her face._

_"Lady Howlett...what are you doing?" Rose asked as she backed away from Elizabeth slowly. Elizabeth raised the gun and worry flashed on Rose's face. "Lady Howlett, don't hurt me, madam!" she shouted. Elizabeth chuckled eerily and continued to raise the gun until it was pointed at her face._

_"Don't worry...it's not for you." she said as she eased her finger on the trigger. _

_"Lady Howlett, no!" Rose shouted. A deafening **BANG **echoed throughout the estate and Rose watched in horror as the back of Elizabeth's skull was blown out. Blood, brains, and bone scattered across the room and Elizabeth's corpse fell to the ground. Rose turned behind her and saw the now fully conscious James staring with a completely blank face. Finally, something rumbled in his throat and he raised his head and screamed._

_"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."_

* * *

><p><strong>1858, Fraser Canyon, Colony of British Columbia<strong>

"...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" James howled as he rose out of his bed, fists balled and muscles strained. Sweat thickly covered his lean and muscular body and his chest moved up and down as he panted heavily. That moment had been replayed in nightmares for the last four years since he, Dog, and Rose had left the Howlett Estate in Alberta. The cover to his tent was ripped open and Dog and Rose entered, worry plastered on their faces.

"James! Are you alright?" Rose asked. James nodded quickly.

"Yes...it's just the..."

"Nightmare." Dog said, completing his sentence. James nodded again.

"Yeah...but I'll be alright." James said as he got out of his bed and put on a shirt. Outside, James could the sounds of men waking and beginning the descent into Fraser Canyon. James, Dog, and Rose had wandered from town to town for a couple of years until word of gold being found in Fraser Canyon on the Thompson River had spread. Like many people, Dog had instantly wanted to pack his things and head to the canyon and strike rich. This was only their third day here, but there were others who had been here for months and had found nothing.

The morning routine, as James had noticed, was to get up, grab a pick axe and head down into the valley, however Dog had made it his unusual habit to go up onto the slopes and mine for the gold. They had found nothing so far, but Dog was convinced that they would soon. The one good thing about the slopes were that they made James stronger, building up his muscle mass and making him toned. It seemed that after he left the Howlett Estate, he had become much more resistant to the weather. There was very little that the weather could do against him.

"C'mon, James! Get ya axe and let's go on up to the slopes!" Dog shouted as he went over to Rose and kissed her cheek softly.

"Tha slopes! What in tarnation do you boys think ya gonna fin' on tha slopes?" a miner shouted at Dog. James grabbed his pick-axe and stood next to Dog and faced the man, putting the pick-axe on his shoulder.

"What do ya think we're gonna find, ya idiot?" Dog retorted as he turned to walk away. The miner rushed towards Dog but James stepped in his way and stared into his eyes.

"You don't want to do that." James said, adding additional bass into his voice in order to sound even more threatening. The miner sniffled and wiped his nose. He then pointed at Dog, while keeping his eyes locked onto James.

"Don't ya get smart wit' me, boys! Ya ain't gonna find nothin' but rocks on that there slope!" the miner shouted. Dog scoffed and waved for James to follow him.

"Yeah, we'll see, now won't we?" he said. James followed after him and looked back at the camp. He always worried how Rose managed to get through each day with gold-hungry neanderthals around her. It was sometimes enough to make him want to go back to camp and check up on her to ensure her safety.

"Rose'll be alright, Jimmy. I have Smitty lookin' after her." Dog said as if he sensed James' thoughts.

"Smitty, eh?" James said softly. Smitty was the de-facto head of the miners. He kept things in whatever form of order he could and was a very hard and strong man. James didn't find anything wrong with him, especially not now since Dog trusted him enough to protect Rose. Dog didn't really trust anybody outside of James and Rose.

"Yeah, so don't worry about her. Just worry about gettin' this gold and provin' those bastards wrong." Dog said with a smile. James smiled back.

"Of course." James replied.

* * *

><p>James sent the tip of his pick-axe crashing into the rocks, his muscles rippling from the impact. He and Dog had been up on the slope since the morning working their way higher, near the cliffs. They had found nothing but rock so far, but Dog's spirits weren't getting any lower.<p>

"Ya find anythin' yet, Jimmy?" Dog shouted. James wiped his forehead and panted.

"No, nothing." James said. Dog shook his head and sent his pick-axe into the ground and then raised up and looked at James.

"I guess it would help if we could smell the damn gold. We'd know what the hell we were doin'!" he said with a slight laugh. James shook his head and smiled. Dog always seemed to be the positive one of the group, despite his short temper. There was never a moment that James could remember Dog being depressed. That was something that James could admire.

"I'm trying my best to find something, but things just aren't working OUT!" James said as he slammed his pick-axe onto the ground again. James heard a distinct sound that burrowed into his ears. It sounded like he had hit metal. James sniffed around the area where he hit and then his eyes widened. There was a small golden nugget laying in front of his face and he picked carefully and a smile spread across his face. "D-Dog...come look at this!" James shouted. Dog ran over towards James, crossing the distance between them rather quickly.

"What is it, Ja..." Dog started. His eyes then sparkled at the sight before him. "HOT DAMN!" he shouted as he leapt into the air. "Gold! We got gold!" Dog cried excitedly. He then leaned close to James.

"Make sure you remember this spot, Jimmy. We're gonna leave it here and come back up here tomorrow morning. We're gonna be rich!" Dog said. James smiled and nodded. He had been rich before although he was too young to enjoy the vast benefits in his opinion. But now, he was sure that he would enjoy himself. Dog then looked at James seriously. "And don't you dare tell anybody."

"Alright, Dog." James said.

James and Dog laughed and talked the entire way down the slope about their discovery. While they were walking down, they were stopped by the miner from the camp, this time accompanied by three of his associates.

"Hey, boys, there's those sumbitches I was tellin' ya'll 'bout. They think they gonna fin' them some gold on that slope!" the miner laughed. The entire group erupted into a guffaw and Dog growled softly under his breath.

"Look, you big dumb turd! We..." Dog started. James tugged at his arm.

"Remember what you told me, Dog." James whispered. Dog snorted and then growled. He then turned away from the miners and walked down the slope with James. "That was really close." James said softly. Dog shook his head and groaned.

"It would've been my own bloody fault. I needta learn ta keep my mouth shut and follow what I told you." Dog said. James punched Dog's shoulder.

"Cheer up. At least I was here with you." James said. Dog punched James back and smiled.

"Well, that's the truth. Thanks, Jimmy." Dog said as the two finally entered the camp.

"Your welcome." James said.

"I'm gonna go get Rose. You want a drink or somethin'?" Dog asked as he pointed at the bar. James shook his head.

"No, I think I'm gonna get in the bed. I'm tired as hell." James said. Dog laughed.

"Such a kid." Dog said as he went to the bar, leaving James to go to his tent. James tore his shirt off and yawned as he eased into his cozy cot and laid his head back onto the pillow. James stared up at the top of his tent and slowly fell asleep as the pain in his muscles eased away.

* * *

><p>Dog swung the door to the mining camp bar wide open and entered. It was loud, especially to Dog's sensitive ears and prostitutes danced on top of tables and hung onto the drunk men that inhabited the bar. Dog walked straight back to the counter where a large man with a thick brown beard stood behind, cleaning glasses.<p>

"Hey, Smitty." Dog greeted him. Smitty nodded.

"Hey, Dog. Rose is in the back."

"Good. She's away from all the shit that's goin' out here." Dog said as he shook his head. He walked behind the counter and opened the door to the room where Rose was. The room was nice and warm, with a fire working its way around the room. Rose sat at the table, writing inside her diary as she had been doing since they had left the Howlett Estate. Inside, Dog thought that he was the only one that wasn't traumatized by what had happened. He had wanted his father dead from all the abuse he had been receiving and had seen people get shot before up close. In all honesty, he had even suspected that James had some abnormal power as well. He smelled similar to Dog anyway.

"Douglass..." Rose said sweetly. Dog smiled. Rose was the only person that he allowed to call him that and after her various performances, he loved hearing her shout his name.

"Hey there, darlin'." he said as he kissed Rose softly. "You ready to go back to the tent?" he asked. Rose smiled slyly.

"Yes. I'm sure that you must be awful sore after all that work you've done." she said as she kissed Dog again.

"Of course. That's awful hard work up on them damned slopes." Dog said as he moved close to Rose's ear. "But I think that we're gonna be rich." Dog whispered.

"Rich?" Rose asked.

"Yeah. James found a golden nugget and we're goin' back up there tomorrow to go get some more and then we're leavin' this place." Dog said. Rose's face lit up and she wrapped her arms around Dog's neck.

"Oh, praise the Lord!" she exclaimed. Dog smiled and took Rose's hand as they left the bar. Behind them, a man sat and looked up, smiling as he had overheard the news of Dog's discovery. He leaned over to a man sitting next to him and smiled.

"You hear that?" he said to his partner. His partner nodded.

"Yeah. I think tomorrow...we should follow them sumbitches up to the slope and get their little 'riches'." the second man said as the two began to laugh.

**The Next Morning...**

"James, get ya sleepy ass up! We gotta go now." James felt Dog's heavy hands slamming down onto his body and his eyes opened. Dog had a large, empty cloth sack in his hand and two pick-axes with him and was already dressed. The sky was still very dark and the moon and the stars were still up. It couldn't be any later than four o'clock. Dog was certainly pressed about getting the gold and leaving as quickly as possible. James got out of his got and threw some water on his face and threw on a shirt.

"Damn, Dog, did ya have to wake me up so early?" James grumbled as he and Dog began their ascent to the slope where they had found the gold. Dog smiled.

"Ya damn right I did. You would've slept straight into th' mornin' and besides, I wanna get this gold and get outta this place as fast as possible." Dog replied. James nodded.

"So where are we gonna go?" he asked. Dog scratched his chin and shrugged.

"I don't really know. There's been alotta folks talkin' bout a place in America called San Francisco down south. But, I don't know. I like it here. Might just get a cabin somewhere deep in th' forest or somethin'. Somewhere peaceful, y'know?" Dog said. James knew what Dog was talking about. After all his years struggling with his father's abuse and anger, James could understand why Dog wanted to go somewhere peaceful.

The trip to the slope felt entirely different now that they knew that were going to be able to find something. It was joyous and Dog and James laughed and talked the entire way up. When they were there they immediately began to dig. James and Dog worked tirelessly, driving their pick-axes deep into the earth and rock, grinding out nugget after nugget. They had found at least six small nuggets after about an hour of work and Dog proudly placed the gold into his sack. A smile was set on his face and James smiled with him.

James picked up the scent of whiskey and tobacco and whirled around, teeth bared. Dog smelled it too and growled softly.

"We know you're there! C'mon out!" Dog shouted. James heard the sounds of footsteps come behind a rock formation.

"Well now, you boys found somethin' ya'd like to share wit' us?" the larger man to the right asked. Dog spat on the ground and shook his head.

"What I got ain't none of ya business, now get lost unless ya'll want trouble!" Dog said. The men laughed and James' face transitioned to a scowl.

"You two young sumbitches don't know what ya messin' wit'. Now, if you don't hand over that there gold, we'll just haveta beat it off ya hands." the smaller of the two men said. Dog growled.

"Over my dead, cold and bloody body!" Dog shouted. The men looked at each other and then rushed forward as they swung at James and Dog.

"That can be arranged!" the larger of the two said. He attacked James, throwing a punch at his face which connected to James' temple, sending flying down into the rocks. James caught the fight between the smaller man and Dog near the edge of the rocks briefly and saw that Dog was holding own. James felt himself get lifted into the air and he growled softly as the large man stared at him and a large grin covered his face.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" James yelled into the man's face as he swung a punch into his nose. The man groaned and James continued to punch him until he heard a sickening crack. Blood flew onto James' shirt and he felt himself get dropped. When he looked over to where Dog was, he didn't see him. All he saw was the smaller man staring down the side of the cliff. James' eyes widened and he ran over to the cliff, pushing the smaller man to the ground. "DOG!" he shouted as he looked down the side of the cliff. He saw Dog, clinging by one hand to the side of the cliff, fear written on his face.

"James! Help! The side's too far up!" he cried. James stretched his arms down to reach where Dog was. Their fingers were more than a foot apart and James yelled in frustration.

"I can't reach you! Can't you climb up some more?" he shouted. Dog reached upwards but the rocks his free hand attempted to touch slipped and broke, flying down to the bottom of the cliff. James looked back behind him and saw the two men quickly grabbing the pick-axes and sack of gold as they went down the slope into a forest opposite of the village. James looked down at Dog and immediately felt helpless. He couldn't reach Dog and if he let the men get away, their chances of a better future would be tarnished. James was torn between the present and the future. Dog saw the worry in his face and yelled up at him.

"James! Help me!" Dog shouted. James stared down at this man, the one he considered a brother and sighed.

"Dog, I can't reach you. The men are running away with our gold! If I let them escape, we'll never be able to leave here! I have to get our gold!" he said. Dog growled.

"Ta hell wit' the gold, James! Pull me up and we'll be able to track them down and get them. Help me!" Dog yelled. James frowned.

"And what if we can't?"

"Just help me, goddammit!" Dog screamed. James looked down at him and back at the men and then sighed. He reached down his hand and moved farther down the side of the cliff as he attempted to reach Dog's hand. James' ears picked up the sound of crackling and he looked down and saw that the rock face was beginning to crumble. Behind him, cracks formed and James looked down at Dog, whose face was now full of fear. "Damn it, James! The whole thing's comin' down. Hurry up and reach me!" he yelled. James reached down farther, however, the rock crumbled even more...and began to slide downwards.

"Dog! The rock is breaking! Jump up!" James yelled as he lowered himself to reach Dog. Dog jumped up and grabbed for James' hand. Their hands only met briefly before the entire rock crumbled. Instinctively, James jumped backwards however, he failed to get Dog's hand in the process. All heard afterwards was the crumbling of the rock and Dog's screams as he fell deep into the canyon. James' eyes filled up with tears and he roared loudly as his anger overwhelmed him. Those men were responsible for this. James growled and ran into the forest, following the strong and now very clear scent of the men.

He was sure that they could hear him, running recklessly through the woods, snapping branches and rustling grass. But he didn't care. He was going to make them pay. James entered into a clearing and he could smell the men all around him. He whirled to the left and to the right, however he was unable to find them. To his left, he heard the cocking of a gun and dodged behind a rock as the shot was fired.

"Ya little bastard. Ya thought ya could sneak up on us with all that noise you was makin'?" the voice of one of them said. James snarled. It was the one Dog had been fighting that pushed him off the cliff. James leapt from behind the rock and raced towards the man, roaring. The smaller man cocked his gun again and fired. The bullet whizzed over James' head and he growled as he swung a punch towards the man. However, his larger friend reached from the side and grabbed James by his throat.

"Oh no ya don't, kid. You ain't hittin' him." the man said. James roared and frowned deeply, his vision turning red as he felt the same kind of anger as he had years before.

"Fine...then I'll cut him!" James pushed his claws from his forearms, sliding them through his knuckles. The ridged and bumpy bone claws dripped with his blood and he swung his claws forward, connecting with the smaller man's throat, slicing his jugular. The man's screams turned to gurgles as blood gushed from his neck. The larger man stared in shock as James swung backwards, digging his claws into the man's bicep. The man moaned loudly and dropped James, whose claws were still stuck inside his arm. James' claws slid straight through and the man could only watch in shock as his dropped in front of his face, leaving a bloody stump. The man screamed out in agony.

"Good God! What the hell!" he screamed. He dropped to his knees and held his arm attempting to halt the bleeding. James stood over him and snarled. Without mercy, he sliced his claws across the man's face with as much force as he could, almost decapitating him. James looked at the two dead bodies and fell to his knees. He panted softly and cried. He had lost his brother. The only one that he felt could understand him. Now he had no one. No one...except Rose...

* * *

><p><em>Cannons fired all around James as his unit was advancing. The two Union divisions were in disarray and James could barely keep his head as the men around him were shouting. He heard too many thing going on and he was getting irritated.<em>

_"General Griffin wants us to move to the enemy's right!" a man shouted over the cannon. James looked at him and shook his head._

_"What the hell for?" he shouted. The soldier shrugged._

_"He's trying to flank the enemy to their right. He's going to end this damn battle now. Ayres is trying to do a frontal assault on Crawford and his men so Griffin wants us to flank him." the soldier explained as a horn was sounded. There was a battle cry and everyone rushed towards the opposing Confederate Army. James followed and was soon in front of everyone. He yelled wildly as he fired his Springfield Model 1861 rifle. The minie ball launched from the muzzle and hit a startled Confederate in the chest._

_James swung the butt of his rifle wildly and crushed the jaw of another advancing Confederate and took his Colt 1860 revolver out of his holster and fired two shots at the men working the artillery, hitting one in the shoulder and barely missing the other, who moved out of the way only to be impaled by an Union officer's sabre. _

_"Keep shooting like that, Howlett, and this shit will be over before ya know it!" a soldier said as he came up beside him. James looked up and saw another large group of Union soldiers moving from the North and smiled._

_"Looks like Crawford's men grew a pair." he laughed. James then ran forward and continued firing his revolver. This war was over as far as he was concerned. The enemy was surrounded and it would only be a matter of time before they were all slaughtered. His only concern now was getting back home to his Rose..._

* * *

><p><strong>April 20, 1865, British Columbia, Canada<strong>

James smiled as he walked up the path towards his cabin, his bag slung over his shoulder, He had served both his country and the U.S. and had survived his first war. He considered that a blessing. As James continued up the hill however, he smelled something abnormal. It was a smell he hadn't smelled in seven years. It was Dog. James dropped his bags and ran straight towards his cabin. He quickly opened the door and to his shock, he saw Dog, completely unscathed from his fall from the cliff. A smile formed on James' face.

"Dog! My God, you're alive!" James said excitedly as he walked forward to greet Dog. Surprisingly, Dog's facial expression never changed. It was still intense. His gaze was burning through him. James suddenly felt uneasy and he sniffed for Rose's scent. He smelled her...and her blood. Immediately, James unsheathed his claws and growled. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's my Rose?" Dog scoffed.

"Where's your Rose? You mean where's **MY **Rose!" Dog snapped angrily. He then stood up and James saw that Dog's fingertips were covered in blood. "You stole her from me, you piece o' shit! You left me to die in that damned canyon and you stole Rose from me!" Dog roared.

"I didn't steal a damned thing from you. You weren't here and she needed someone and I was there! We thought you were dead!" James retorted. Dog's anger festered and he flushed red.

"YOU LEFT ME TO DIE, YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU STOLE MY LOVE FROM ME! AND GUESS WHAT!" Dog yelled as he reached behind James' couch and pulled Rose from behind it. "IF I CAN'T HAVE HER, YOU DAMN SURE AIN'T GOIN' TO EITHER!" he roared. Rose was covered in scratches and scars. Blood dripped from her mouth, ribs and nose and James was overcome with rage and he leapt forward.

"Don't you dare lay another finger on her!" he roared as he crashed into Dog's chest, causing him to release Rose from his grip. The two crashed through the window and rolled down the hill. James' roll was halted by a boulder that crashed against his back, causing pain to shoot up and down his body. Dog continued rolling until he hit a tree and sent the Douglas-fir crashing to the ground. James willed himself to get up and growled as he could still smell Dog's scent. The blonde and muscular man emerged from the dust created from the tree falling and James could hear cackling. Cackling...just like his father had.

"That was a nice little fall, Jimmy-boy. It'll take more than that to kill me, Jimmy...but o' course, you already know that!" Dog yelled. James snarled.

"You're out of your damn mind, Dog! Snap out of it before I have to hurt you!" James said. Dog laughed and rubbed his face.

"Hurt me? James, I survived a one hundred foot drop from a cliff. There ain't anything you can do to hurt me!" Dog growled as he put his hands to his side. James looked at him strangely and his jaw dropped as he saw what Dog was doing. Dog's fingernails grew longer and sharper until they were six inches long and his canine teeth grew until they were fangs. James gasped. Dog was like him too.

"My God..." James said softly.

"What? Did you think that all those times I sniffed out things before you could and heard things before you could, it was jus' by happenstance? Were you that selfish ta think that God only made one like you?" he growled. James gulped. Everything was making sense now. Dog had always been faster, stronger, and tougher than he was. Was that because of his powers? Before he could bother to even answer the question, Dog was on top of him slashing at him with his talons and biting at his flesh. James kept Dog at bay using his claws. Dog was quick, almost animal-like, dodging everything that James could throw at him. James lashed out aggressively, only to have his attack parried and blocked. Dog shoved his talons into James' pectorals and threw him into the branches of a tree.

James gathered himself and looked down and saw Dog back up the hill towards the cabin. James roared and leapt from the tree down towards Dog and shoved his claws deep into his ribs. "No more, Mr. Nice Guy! If I have to kill you, I will! You ain't going to hurt Rose!" James snarled. He continued to jab his claws into Dog's ribs. Dog turned over and backslapped James back into the trees. This time he followed him and grabbed him by his skull and sent his head into a branch. Dog and James fell on top of a thick branch and Dog smiled sadistically as he looked down at James.

"I'm going to kill her, James. And then you'll be just like me. A monster with no family and no love!" Dog said as he pushed his deep into James' throat. James swung his claws upwards to try and hit Dog but as his air left him, his attempts grew more and more feeble. Finally, James' vision faded into darkness and the last thing he saw was Dog laughing and laughing...and laughing.

* * *

><p>James' burst open and he looked around quickly. He immediately sniffed for Rose and tears almost came to his eyes. All he could smell was her blood. No life, absolutely nothing. James leapt from the tree and ignored the pain of his fall and ran towards his cabin. James knocked down the door and looked around and his heart sank. There was blood all over the living room. Blood on the windows, blood on the walls, and blood on the floor. Rose's body laid tattered and torn on the floor and James ran to her body. When he lifted her up, she almost fell apart. Her arm fell to the ground, blood squirting out onto James' hands and blood dripped steadily from her mouth. There was no doubt about it. Rose was dead.<p>

"ERRRAAAWWWWRR!" James howled as ferally as he had on the night he saw his father die. His love, Rose was gone and so was the man he thought was his brother. James couldn't bear to stay there any longer. James rose to his feet and walked out of the cabin. James' feet lead him back to Fraser Canyon and he climbed to the very tallest peak that the canyon could offer. He had no reason to live. He had no reason to go on. All that was left for him was death. James closed his eyes and leapt from the type of the hill. As his heart rushed up to his throat, James imagined a better life, where he wasn't a monster. Where his parents weren't dead. Where Rose hadn't been killed. Where Dog hadn't gone mad. James crashed his head against a sharp rock that jutted through his skull. The next impact was the snapping of his legs and arms. The next was a piece of rock that went straight through his heart and out the back of his lungs. The last impact was his entire body landing at the bottom of the canyon, complete beaten, torn, battered, and bloodied. His body was brutally contorted and he laid motionless.

**Ten minutes later...**

James opened his eyes.


	4. Mindless Monster

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Wolverine Rebirth: Origins is back! Well, I had to water down what I had originally intended to happen but I'm sure you'll find the conclusion satisfying enough. I was trying to make this darker than the last two chapters and I hope that I succeeded. Please utilize that review button and don't just favorite the story. I could use constructive criticism on anything I need to do better. Thanks and enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>A death isn't like losing a job or getting divorced. You don't 'get over it.' You have to integrate it into your life.<em>"_

- **Wolverine (Earth-616)**

* * *

><p><strong>1876, Montana Territory<strong>

James marched with a group of other soldiers, gripping his Springfield Model 1873 rifle tightly. He stared blankly in the distance as he thought of the past. This wasn't the life that he had envisioned for himself, even after discovering he was a monster. The death of Rose at the hands of his own brother haunted him every time he closed his eyes. The cryptic and ominous words that he had left him with shook him to the core but ever since that day eleven years ago, James hadn't seen Dog. He hadn't smelled him. He hadn't heard him. It was like he had vanished. But James knew that he would come back as soon as he smelled blood. Like a moth to the flame. He knew that Dog would return.

The last eleven years had been fraught with mental turmoil for James. He had wandered away from Canada completely and had moved down the United States. The only thing that kept him alive and kept him busy was war and killing. Every battle that he fought was one in which he released his anger and frustration. The emotions he felt towards Dog for what had he had done had festered and spoiled over into James' everyday life and it was a wonder that he hadn't been discharged from the army for his actions.

James' regiment continued to march through the forest. James inhaled and smiled. The smell of the trees and the wildlife filled his nose, creating an air of serenity. The sounds of the birds whistling in the canopy echoed throughout the area and James was calmed.

"Keep it moving! We've still got another ten miles to go!" the officer in the front called as he rocked from side to side on top of his horse. James scoffed and spat on the ground, keeping the same pace that he had been. No matter how fast they went, ten miles was ten miles. James didn't know why the hell he would...

A small whistling sound rocketed into James' ear and he cocked his gun. Before he could raise his weapon, a stream of arrows flew from the trees, hitting a couple of people walking in the line. James growled and fired his weapon once into the woods. He reached into his pocket and grabbed some more ammo.

"What the hell is going on?" a soldier yelled as he fired his rifle. A arrow sailed through the air, impaling the man in his forehead, dropping him instantly. James looked around him and one by one, his platoon was slaughtered. A few arrows hit James in his chest and he staggered backwards and roared. He swung his head horizontally, trying to see his attackers. An eerie and ghoulish cry rose from the trees and suddenly a large group of men, dressed in dear skin trousers and bear necklaces appeared, chanting wildly. They leapt upon the downed US soldiers and drove their knives deep into the skulls of the men. One of the men leapt onto James and raised his weapon to kill him.

James roared and kicked the man off and raised his rifle upwards and drove his bayonet into the man's stomach. Another of the marauders stabbed James in his back, howling as he did it. James snarled and swung back towards the man. Ducking, the man drew his knife and stabbed it into James' throat. James coughed and blood spurted out of his mouth. A smirk crossed his attacker's face and James growled. "Wipe that goddamned smile of your face!" James yelled as he drew his twelve inch bone claws and sent them flying into the man's chest. James pulled his claws from the man's chest and turned towards the rest of the attackers.

The men drew their bows and a stream of arrows struck James simultaneously, hitting all over his body. James fell to the ground and growled angrily as he began to slowly remove the arrows from his skin as the wounds healed. His assailants stood over James and began to talk to one another. James gasped softly and growled at the men. One of the men cocked his head and laughed. He then pointed at James and said something to one of his comrades. The man grabbed James' rifle and raised it over his head. He then drove the butt of the rifle into James' skull. James moaned softly and slunk off into a black embrace.

**10 Minutes Later...**

Cold water fell on James' skin, instantly jump starting his body and causing his eyes to burst open widely. In front of him, a group of children stood in front of holding a large bucket. James frowned and then growled at them. The kids laughed and grabbed handfuls of dirt and threw it at James. James spat as the dirt filled his mouth and his nose and he growled angrily. A club crashed against the bridge of his nose and the impact blinded James. James turned and looked to his right and saw the man that had knocked him out.

The man waved more children over and they skipped over towards James and pointed at him and laughed. The laughing wasn't what annoyed James, even though the shrillness of the cries were beginning to hurt his head. It was the man that stood over him as if he was his warden that really irritated him. James tried to move his wrists and groaned. He turned around and groaned. His hands were completely tied by a thick rope. He couldn't move his wrists enough to even reach the ropes with his claws even if he happened to draw them out. He was stuck and all he could feel was anger as the children continued to throw dirt on him.

A quick hoot scared the children away and James' watcher looked off across the length of the camp. A man shouted, raising his hands and waving them back and forth. The watcher shouted in response and grabbed James by the back of his neck and raised him up. James was taller than the man by at least three inches and he looked down at him with a deep loathing. The watcher shouted and hit James in the back of the head and pushed him forward. James growled and stared forward. If he had his way, he was going to make the bastard pay.

James was pushed forward and continued to walk. He looked around and observed everything that was going on. He saw woman cutting pieces of meat and putting them over the fire, a group of men riding in on horses carrying a dead deer with them. He saw children running around carrying twigs as spears, chanting playfully as they raced around the camp. Despite his earlier irritation, he found somewhat of a feral serenity to the scene. It almost made him feel sorry for what was happening...

The watcher said something softly to James and then gently pushed James inside of a large tent. James looked forward and saw an older man kneeling in the middle of the tent. He had a large white feather crown-like ornament on his head and he looked intensely towards James. He waved his hand towards the watcher and he bowed and exited, leaving James kneeling in front of the man. James stared at the man and then sighed.

"Who the hell are you?" James asked. The man raised his hand and then stood up.

"You don't know where you are...but yet you ask who I am?" the man asked. James raised an eyebrow.

"You speak English?" he asked. The man shook his head.

"You are not the first white man to come here." the man replied.

"Fair enough."

"You asked who I am. My name is Chief Iiniiwa-Mahkan of the Piikáni Blackfoot Tribe. In your language, my name is Running Buffalo." the man said. James nodded and shrugged.

"Why..."

"Are you here? Why are you alive? I do not know. My best warriors say that you survived all that they did to you. They hit you with arrows many times and you still kneel in front of me. What power do you have that makes you this way?" Running Buffalo said as he walked around James. James didn't know how to respond. He didn't fully trust this man but the very fact that he was taking time to talk to him instead of trying to kill him as every other of his Blackfoot subordinates had attempted to do before. Even he did tell him what his powers were, it was highly unlikely, if not impossible, that they would be able to do anything to him. The problem was, he didn't fully understand himself.

"I heal. I heal faster than anything that you've ever seen before." James replied. Running Buffalo circled him and James could feel his eyes piercing his flesh as he observed him.

"You fight like a bear. You show true warrior spirit. The Spirits are pleased." Running Buffalo said. James dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the first praise he had gotten since entering the camp. "It is not wise to kill a warrior as yourself. If you will stay with my tribe, we will feed you, give you clothes and a place to sleep as well as your choice of women. If not, I will give you a horse and supplies and you may leave." James looked at Running Buffalo and wrinkled his nose. He was lying. James could smell the change in his scent and it was absolutely repulsive. James still had two choices. He could stay here with these Blackfoot and get shelter, food and a woman or he could slaughter everyone in the camp and take their goods for himself.

James frowned. That's what Dog would want him to do. To be a monster just like he was. That wasn't going to happen, but still, there was little hope that James would feel welcome in this tribe. The men probably would pick fights him just for the fun of doing so and if push came to shove, James' shove would be the last thing they felt. James looked up at Running Buffalo whose face was full of expectation. James knew what answer the man expected and he was pretty sure that he was getting ready to give it.

"I'll stay." James said. Running Buffalo smiled and opened his arms, beckoning James to stand to his feet. James sighed softly and walked over to the Blackfoot Chief and he was embraced in a deep and somewhat uncomfortable hug. James endured it and finally was let go. Running Buffalo took James' hand and led him out of his teepee. The sun beamed in James' face and he could the chief speaking in his native tongue. After he had spoken, there were some small hollers and hoops, but otherwise there was silence. When his eyes adjusted, James could see nothing but straight faces. Whatever Running Buffalo had said, it was unsettling to his people. The Blackfoot turned to James and smiled.

"I tell you plan to stay here with us." he said.

"They don't seem to like it." James replied, noting some of the rather angry faces of the men. Running Buffalo patted his soldier and beckoned for him to follow. James entered the teepee and sat down. He heard the soft pitter patter of feet and turned slightly to see a few more Blackfoot entering into the chief's teepee. James frowned and stifled a growl. It was his watcher and a few men who had personally struck him with arrows that had hurt more than just his pride.

"This is Eagle Feather." Running Buffalo said as he pointed at the man who was James' watcher. "He brought you to us." Eagle Feather looked down at James, his hollow and dark eyes causing James to itch under his skin. It was very uncomfortable how this Blackfoot looked at him and James did his best to keep from disrespecting any sense of camaraderie that was supposed to be felt in this teepee. James was so focused on the way that Eagle Feather was eyeing him that he missed the second and third introductions. He didn't exactly care. They meant nothing to him. The main problem was between him and this Blackfoot. James couldn't help himself. He wanted to gut him.

"White man stink like _kuekuatsu._" Eagle Feather said as he pointed at James and held his nose. Everyone inside the teepee chuckled while James looked around confused.

"The hell's koo...koo what?" James asked looking around. The Blackfoot continued to laugh and Running Buffalo grabbed a skull and held it up. He played with the skull and opened and closed it with his fingers.

"_Kuekuatsu. _Skunk-Bear." Running Buffalo said with a smile. James rubbed his head and then suddenly a memory flashed in his head. This "Skunk-Bear" was a wolverine.

* * *

><p><strong>1856, British Columbia<strong>

James raced through the thick coniferous forest, smiling as he made leaps and bounds through the trees and across rushing creeks. He had slunk away from Dog and Rose as they were walking through their small community, but he knew that they knew where he was. Ever since they had left Alberta, James had felt so much more in touch with the wild. All his senses opened. His mind was freed of all the stress and trauma that he had gone through. He felt alive out here. Nothing made him happier than being out.

James stalked slowly through the bushes, sniffing every now and then. Many scents were in the air, but there was very distinct and musky scent in the air. James had smelled it several times before but he had never been able to have time to actively track down the cause. Now, things were different. James followed his hyper-sensitive nose through the brush and made his way to a broken and rotten stump of a tree. James sniffed around and the musky scent was even stronger. There was no doubt that he had arrived. James looked under the stump and heard small squeals.

Curious, he leaned farther down. A warning growl echoed from under the stump. It was minuscule however and James continued to look down. Inside the dusty and dark hole, James saw two small golden-brown and black creatures with thick and oily looking fur. They stared up with both innocence and ferocity as James smiled at what he had discovered.

They were wolverine kits. James had heard of wolverines from Dog who had also heard of them from fur traders and hunters. They were supposed to be ferocious enough to take down deer and moose ten times their size and even steal prey from bears. But when James looked down at these young kits, he saw some very innocent and utterly defensless young ones without any protection. Protection that they very well needed.

James whipped around and growled. But his scowl sunk into a face of utter awe. Before him, stood a nine foot tall grizzly bear. It's mouth was open and drool hung from the corner of its mouth. The bear looked straight past James and down into the tree stump hole. James looked behind him and then back at the bear. He stared at the animal and gasped softly. It was like he could read the beast's emotional state. There was only one thing that came to its mind. Kill.

James stayed placed in front of the kits and growled, albeit feebly, to the immense bear but it did little. The bear dropped to all fours and moved closer to James and roared. The vibrations sent shocks through James' body and James almost backed away. However, he stood his ground and growled back at the bear, stronger this time then before. The bear stared back and then roared. It jumped forward and began to charge towards James. Though he was afraid, James stood his ground and clenched his fists tightly. His bone claws emerged from his knuckles and he readied himself.

The first attack was a large and clubbing blow from the bear that James barely ducked under. All he could see was a blanket of brown fur and James slashed at it twice. He struck through fur and reached flesh twice. Blood fell to the ground in droplets and the bear backed away, looking down at its wounds. James lowered himself and sighed. He was a sixteen year old boy taking on a full-grown male grizzly bear. In any other situation, he would be scared beyond belief, however, something feral within him had been awakened. He felt obligated to protect these defenseless kits.

The male grizzly paced back and forth in front of James and stared him down, his beady dark brown eyes circling looking for any weakness as he assessed his enemy. James' face dropped into a scowl and he bore his teeth in a vicious snarl. The grizzly roared and stood on his hind legs and towered over James. James yelled back and the male bear fell forward with his mouth open and huge paws crashing down towards James. The young feral boy put hit claws in front of his face to defend himself and there was a sickening sound of flesh being penetrated and blood being spilled on the ground.

James panted as his heart pounded inside his chest. On top of him lay a 850 pound bear which was most certainly dead weight now. James could smell the bear's blood all over him and mixed with the musky scent of the wolverine, it was a horrendous stench. James pushed as hard as he could, but the beast wouldn't budge at all. James groaned and used both his legs and arms and pushed. The bear moved barely enough for James to crawl from underneath it. James gasped as he was finally free of the weight of the bear. However, James heard a loud growl and his heart began to race. The bear couldn't be still alive especially with so much of its blood splattered on the ground. James turned slowly to see the source of the growl. His eyes widened. It was the mother wolverine.

The female growled up at James and then peered over towards the dead bear carcass. James heard the happy squeals of the kits as the rushed out from between his legs towards their mother, brushing against him intentionally. The mother checked the kits and then stared back up at James. Instead of growling, she looked at him only warily. James could sense an emotion resonating from her. She was grateful, maybe even happy. James was unsure if she knew exactly what he had done, but he was sure that she was sparing him front any unnecessary fighting. The female wolverine nudged her kits into the bushes and turned towards James. After a few seconds of staring, she padded after them. James smiled and panted. He looked up into the sky and then sighed. It was time to go home.

* * *

><p><strong>1878, Montana Territory<strong>

The sound of buffalo crossing the plains echoed across the plains, filling James' head with delight. Two years had passed since he was invited to stay with the Blackfoot tribe. The Blackfoot had trained him in their ways and had even renamed him, _Kuekuatsu, _Wolverine, for his ferocity and aggressive nature. They taught him their language, which he could now speak fluently and their legends which he knew almost by heart. He had grown fond of the tribesmen, except for Eagle Feather. The two never seemed to get along, especially not during the hunt. James gazed over the plains at the buffalo, his superhumanly keen eyes analyzing every detail in the herd. The herd had around thirty members: Three bulls, seventeen cows and ten calves. One of the bulls seemed to walk with a limp and James could see that it was older from it's missing horn and battle scarred flanks. One of the Blackfoot rode up to him, with the rest of the hunting party close behind.

"What do you see, Wolverine?" the Blackfoot said. James turned to him and smiled as he pointed across the plains.

"Cloud In The Sky, there is an injured old bull near the back of the herd. He will be easy to kill." James responded. Cloud In The Sky nodded.

"Yes, but we will need more than just one buffalo to feed our village. Can you see any cows that will be suitable?"

"I'm not sure which ones have young. Killing them might cause the young to die." James said.

"Then they will die." Eagle Feather said as he approached on his horse. James looked over at him with contempt and growled. Eagle Feather stared back. "Does the Skunk-Bear wish to test the talons of the eagle?" he asked, placing his hand on his calf where he stored his dagger. With one quick motion, James could spill this Blackfoot's entrails all over the plains and leave his dying carcass to the coyotes and buzzards. However, killing a member of the tribe would be an automatic exile and with a wife at home, he couldn't afford that.

"No." James replied, reluctantly. Eagle Feather scoffed.

"Just because you stole Silver Fox's hand in marriage does not mean that you are great, white man. Remember that." Eagle Feather growled as he stared James down. James could hardly keep himself from unsheathing his claws and small ripples began to form underneath his knuckles. Eagle Feather turned and trotted farther up on his horse. James took in a deep breath and then exhaled. He couldn't let his emotions get in the way of the hunt. In order to take down these buffalo effectively, they would have to work well as a unit.

James hooted a call to the Blackfoot and they rode out from behind a hill out onto the plains. They chanted loudly as they rode behind the herd. The herd broke into a run and the Blackfoot tapped their horses flanks to increase their speed. They easily caught up to them and James rode beside the injured buffalo that he had spotted from afar. The animal was weak, but most definitely a fighter as it kept up with the rest of its herd. James drew his bow and arrow and aimed behind the buffalo's left forelimb. James fired and the arrow hit its target. Buffalo fell head over heels and if the arrow hadn't killed it, breaking its own neck in its fall most definitely did.

James jumped off his horse as the buffalo herd passed and stood over the fallen male. He looked off into the distance as the herd continued to run and saw Eagle Feather aiming his arrow and killing the females. James roared in outrage. He had just told them not to kill the females, yet Eagle Feather still proceeded. James snarled. He hated the bastard with every fiber of his being.

"Eagle Feather! You bastard!" James howled as he hopped onto his horse and rode towards him. When he got there, he tackled him off of his horse and plowed into the ground. Eagle Feather reached for his knife and drew it, however, James sent his elbow crashing into Eagle Feather's wrist, breaking it. Eagle Feather stared up blankly in pain and he growled.

"Skunk-Bear!" he shouted. James drew his claws and placed them against Eagle Feather's face, trying his hardest not to break his skin.

"I told you not to kill the females because we didn't know who had calves! You disobeyed!" James growled. Eagle Feather spat in James' face and laughed.

"I would never listen to a white man." he said with a twisted grin. James sheathed his claws and roared and he punched Eagle Feather on the bridge of his nose. James growled and sighed. If he caught hell for what he just did, he was going to castrate Eagle Feather.

**Later That Day, Blackfoot Camp**

James curled up in bed and pulled the sheets over his shoulders and sighed. After the hunting party had returned, there was a great celebration over the killing of the buffalo that had begun to disappear more and more every year. James had explained Eagle Feather's extended unconsciousness by saying a buffalo had butted his horse and thrown him to the ground. Of course, Eagle Feather wasn't awake to say otherwise and none of the other Blackfoot would contradict his statement. James smiled and sighed softly. A body rustled next to him and James looked over to see the beautiful face of his wife, Silver Fox.

The daughter of Running Buffalo, Silver Fox was the equivalent of a princess to this Blackfoot tribe and revered for her beauty. When James had first met her, she was initially sarcastic and somewhat hostile towards him, however they began to fall in love over the time as James became accepted by the Blackfoot and proved himself to be worthy of her hand. This, however, had not set well with Eagle Feather, who's hate for James only festered more when he discovered they were to be married. James understood his frustrations rather well. Silver Fox was Eagle Feather's first love.

"I hear that you hunted well today." Silver Fox said as her lips touched James' jaw line that had begun to form faint mutton chop sideburns. James chuckled softly.

"It's getting easier to use the bow. Before, I would just shove my claws into the buffalo and take its head off." James said. Silver Fox shook her head in amusement.

"Just like the Wolverine you are." she said softly. James turned over and looked down on his bride and smiled.

"I'm your Wolverine." he said softly. A passionate kiss followed his words and the action grew more and more intense as the time wore on. James began to feel his feral energies bursting through him and he was praying softly that they didn't disturb the camp.

**In The Trees**

Eagle Feather looked down on his camp in disgust. How could they accept a white man as a Blackfoot? He knew that the white man always brought trouble with him. Why would Running Buffalo be so foolish? However, it was only ironic that he had grown to trust another white man. One whom he intended to meet tonight.

"So, you're here." a deep and menacing voice snarled. Eagle Feather turned quickly. Even after a few months of talking to this man, he had never grown accustomed to his voice.

"Yes. I am here." Eagle Feather said. The man emerged from the shadows, a long and tattered black cloak covering his body. Eagle Feather could faintly make out his long blonde hair underneath his hood and a few elongated canine teeth on his bottom jaw. When he opened his palms, his sharp, talon-like fingernails glinted in the moonlight and Eagle Feather's heart rate quickened slightly. The man took in a deep breath and chuckled.

"Your fear scent is so enticing. It almost makes me _have _to kill you." he said as he laughed. When he was finished, he grunted. "He's down there. I can smell him and I can hear him." he said. Eagle Feather nodded.

"Yes, the teepee behind the largest one in the middle is his. He lays there with my woman." Eagle Feather said as he frowned. The man laughed.

"Your woman?" he exclaimed. "Little Jimmy's scent is all over her. Even from here, I know there ain't a damned trace of you anywhere." the man said as Eagle Feather looked away, embarrassed. "You can only claim something that ain't yours if you've got the power to take it." the man growled. Eagle Feather nodded quickly. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.

"Do you remember your vow?" he asked. The man chuckled.

"Yes, I remember."

"Good. That's good."

"Funny thing is...I don't keep 'vows'. The only one I'm keeping is to that little bastard in your camp. To take away all that he loves. His friends. His family. To turn him into a mindless animal, like me. And do you know what a wild animal does if it's forced to live by a set code of ethics?" the man growled.

"N-no."

"They break free and kill everything." the man growled as he raised his hand and slashed through Eagle Feather's neck, sending his head flying from the woods. "C'mon out, Jimmy. Your worst nightmare is back." the man said as he pulled back his hood and revealed the face of Dog Logan.

**Inside James' teepee**

The passion between James and Silver Fox was interrupted when James caught something in the air. The smell sent his body into full alert and he bore his teeth in disbelief. _He's found me? How?_ He thought. He looked down at Silver Fox who stared up at him confused.

"Wolverine, what's wrong?" Silver Fox asked. James grabbed her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

"You need to run. Run onto the plains, but don't go into the forest! Go now!" James shouted. Silver Fox quickly dressed herself and began to leave the teepee. A shadow loomed over James' abode and James' eyes widened as he saw the claws.

"There ain't goin' to be any running, Jimmy." Dog said as he reached inside the teepee and grabbed both Silver Fox and James. James peered around the camp and his eyes widened. Everyone was dead. Everyone. It was impossible. Had he been so caught up in his passion that he didn't smell or hear anything going on? Or was Dog such an accomplished killer that he could kill silently and negate James' senses until he was ready to face him? Whatever it was, there was no time for explanations.

"Let her go!" James yelled as he unsheathed his claws and sent them sliding through the bone in Dog's arm. Silver Fox fell to the ground and back away slowly, completely frozen in fear. James was thrown to the ground and the breath escaped from him. He couldn't even tell her what to do. She just sat frozen like a rabbit about to be pounced on by a bobcat. James stared over at Dog who casually reached down towards his severed arm and picked it up, eyeing it. James had no idea what the sick brain of Dog had in mind until he saw it. Dog placed his severed arm back to the stump and within moments, he could move it again.

As sickening as it was, Dog had reattached a severed limb. James almost lost all hope. How could he defeat someone like this? With such power? He was much more of a monster than he was back when he had killed Rose. He was completely inhuman. James rose from the ground and raced towards Dog swinging his claws across Dog's torso, sending blood spurting into the campfire. Dog retaliated by shoving his fist into James' kidney and sinking his claws into it. James yelled out in pain and shot an elbow strike into Dog's nose and then pounced on top of him as he fell and began to jab his claws into his abdomen, ripping and tearing just as he had done to Thomas Logan. Dog suddenly slashed at James' eyes and kicked him off. Dog rose up quickly and plowed his index finger into James' forehead.

"That may have worked on our father all those years ago, James, but that ain't goin' to work now." Dog said.

"He wasn't _our _father! He was yours!" James shouted. Dog shook his head in pity.

"All this time and you haven't put the damn facts together?" Dog said as he flexed his claw in and out of James' forehead. "We both end up with these abilities that make us animals, Jimmy. We damn well may be the only two bastards on this planet that can do what we do. You think that's just by happenstance? No. That old drunken bastard was right. Your 'daddy' couldn't handle your mother. I was alive when she came into father's cabin. I saw them with my own two eyes, Jimmy."

"No."

"I saw the lust and frustration as your mother stripped down like a common brothel whore and moaned loud enough for the damn hounds to think it was hunting time."

"NOOOOOO!" James yelled as he gathered his strength and slashed across Dog's face, his claws leaving a diagonal scar. Dog smiled and then looked up as his face healed.

"You may not want to accept it, Jimmy. But you...you ain't nothing but a poor man's mistake. Shit, at least your somebody's." Dog said as he began to laugh evilly. James roared loudly and rushed Dog. Dog ducked under James' strike and caught his fist. With a swift and nasty twist of James' wrist, there was a loud snap. James looked down shocked. Not only was his wrist broken. His claws were as well. They fell like little knives to the ground and James swung with his other hand and was met with the same result. His claws fell to the ground, broken. Dog grabbed James by his throat and slammed him into the ground. Before James could even get up, he howled out loudly in pain and looked over at his forearm. Two of his broken claws were buried deep inside his muscle and the bone. Two more claws were sent into his other forearm and then he finally felt the last two claws go into his thighs. Dog knelt down in front of James and then pointed at the still frozen Silver Fox. James shook his head violently.

"RUN!" he screamed to the top of his lungs. When the woman had finally come to her senses and tried to get up, Dog grabbed her by her hair and threw her to the ground. Dog loomed over her and smiled at James who couldn't do a thing. He was stuck into the ground. "You fucking horseshit bastard! Touch her and I'll..."

"You won't do shit...except watch." Dog said as he lowered himself to the ground and climbed on top of Silver Fox, who squirmed rapidly, tears running down her face. Dog cackled and held her face. James began to hyperventilate, his heart pounding, his pupils dilated and a bestial roar rose from his throat. Without hesitation, James tore his arms and legs through their holds, ignoring all pain as he let loose his freshly regrown claws. His mind was gone. He was no longer consciously there. He had unleashed a new and primordial anger. He had unleashed a feral, berserker rage.

Dog rose up to face James, but James only roared and continued to slash at Dog. James' claws hit their target and blood fell like a crimson waterfall from Dog's stumped arm. When blood had hit James' nose, it only increased his drive. The conscious, human part of mind was fighting to gain some degree of control only to be shot back by the monstrous animal that had emerged within James. As he tore apart Dog, his blood flying out of his body in buckets and his other arm flying off completely, his intestines spilling the ground followed close after by his stomach and pancreas. James ended by dislodging Dog's heart and raised his hand to slice off his head when a hand touched him. Before he had time to register the touch, he sent his claws towards the touch with a backhand. A new smell of blood hit James' face. Before he could roar in triumph, the human conscious began to gain ground. James' anger began to rest and sorrow overtook him. For the first time in years, tears poured down his face. In front of him, laid the decapitated body of his Blackfoot love, Silver Fox...killed by his own claws...and not Dog's.


	5. World War Part I

**A/N: Jesus Christ, it's been a while O_O I'm so sorry for the delay. Between school, personal issues, SAT testing, college preparation...I'm sorry. But I'll make it up to you. Spider-Man is on the way as well but until then, enjoy this ^_^...**

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 1942, <strong>**Dieppe, France**

* * *

><p>The waves smashed against the Landing Craft Tanks that James and around 6,000 other Canadian infantrymen were arriving on. The shore was covered in smoke screen and the visibility was rather low. No one knew what they were getting into...except James. He could smell the German soldiers and could hear them shouting out orders to each other. He knew for sure that there this raid was going to be disastrous. As their landing craft hit the beach and the gates were lowered, the men around James were hit by heavy machine gun fire and mortars. Limbs were sprayed all over the beach before James could step out and begin to fire his rifle. Screams of agony filled the air as men were cut down by the machine guns.<p>

James raced onto the beach, as the sounds of war filled his desensitized ears. The Germans were heavily entrenched and the heavy smoke was doing them no good. Visibility was low and James really could only trust his ears which were being overrun by machine gun fire and his fellow soldiers' screams. As James looked around, the grisly images of decapitated bodies, blood still freshly pumping from the stump of their neck and disemboweled bodies of men screaming as they felt the slimy substance that was their intestinal tract. James continued running forward and ignored the sights, smells and sounds that were covering the beach as the smoke began to settle. Inside, he knew that this was a failed and suicidal mission.

The whistling of a falling mortar shell came too slowly for James and the shell exploded near his feet, sending his leg flying off at the knee. James howled in pain and groaned as his body slowed the bleeding. He quickly sniffed around for his scent and let out a sigh of relief. His leg hadn't been blown that far down the beach. James hopped up on one leg towards his dislodged limb and casually sat down next to it. He grabbed his leg and placed it against the stump. James hissed as he felt the skin, ligaments, muscles and bones reattach. Within a few seconds, he could move his leg just fine. He had discovered that he could reattach limbs a few years ago and it was hard to reattach _both _of his arms.

Men were dropping like flies around James, many getting picked off as they made their way off the landing craft. As James quickly scanned around the area and instantly noticed how dire the situation was growing. He and around ten other men were the only ones still pushing towards Dieppe. With this few men, there was almost no hope for successfully raiding Dieppe. In all regards, abandoning the mission would be the absolute best option. Before James could turn around, he heard Germans screaming and shouting. James faced his attackers and roared. Abandoning his rifle, James drew his claws and rushed the emerging Germans. The Nazi soldiers stopped short and fired at James. The bullets pierced his flesh at a rapid rate and he took more time to dodge. After weaving under gunfire, James came into contact with his first German.

They fell like all men would if their legs had been chopped out from under them, their heads sent rolling down the beach towards the water and their blood turning the beach into a crimson sand. James attacked with unbridled ferocity, leaping from man, shredding their flesh and slicing through bone with each strike. After he had pulled his blood drenched claws from the flesh of a dead Nazi, he turned to his right and to his left. To his equal disgust and surprise, he was surrounded. His fellow soldiers had all been shot to death. in the midst of his own fight, he hadn't even heard the gunshots or their cries.

James was taken out of the realization that everyone was around him was dying by a gunfire that peppered his torso, sending him crashing onto the ground. Writhing in agony, James willed himself to stand up. Before he could, the Germans were over him in swarms, continuously firing onto his body. James felt every bullet pierce and organ and he cried out in pain. However almost as soon as the bullets hit, his healing factor kicked in repairing the damages that were done. As his pain ended, he saw the Germans still standing over him and he growled and spat up blood into all of their faces. Without hesitation, one of the Nazis pulled out a pistol and fired directly into James' forehead. Before he went unconscious, James heard one of the Nazis yelling orders and then felt his body being lifted up and carried away.

* * *

><p><strong>Eyjafjallajökull, Iceland<strong>

"_Aufwachen, Arschloch._" a voice said as boiling hot water hit James' body. The searing heat caused James to scream as he opened his eyes and stared around ferociously, growing angrily. He pulled his arms and tried to break free from whatever was holding him, but it completely failed him. He stared up at the chains and saw how embedded they were into the wall. As James observed his surroundings, he realized he was in a dungeon-like chamber. Above him, skeletons hung onto rusted metal chains. The entire place smelled horrific, like death had taken over and sucked the life out of the area. Water dripped from the ceiling noisily, disturbing the rats that scurried at James' feet. James heard the creaking of the door as footsteps entered inside the cell. James stared forward but the sight that beheld him disgusted him. In front of him stood a man whose face looked as if the flesh had been carved from his face, leaving nothing but covered blood and muscle covered around his skull. His slate blue eyes looked across his body and smiled.

"So, you're the one that has my men shivering in their boots." the man said softly as he paced in front of him. He then stopped and his horribly scarred and disfigured face twisted in a smile, the muscles and tendons stretching as he revealed his toothy grin. "But it seems my face is enough to cause you to fear." James chuckled softly.

"Bub, I've done worser things to people than what you've done to yourself. I ain't scared you or any of your damn Nazi guards." James said defiantly. The man's face smelled like disease and death. His face smelled like it was rotting away and James couldn't help but smell it. His nose was much too strong to ignore the stench. The man seemed to catch wind of it as he grew closer to James' face and began to speak.

"What's the problem, friend? You don't like the smell?" he asked. The man then backed away and continued to pace. "I was told that my men unloaded their entire clips into your body and gave you a couple shots to the skull. Yet, you are still alive. My men are much too afraid of me to make up such lies, so I ask you, how did you do this? What type of magic did you use to survive their attacks?" he asked. James spat onto the ground in front of the man and stared at him. Instantly, the man sent the back of his hand into the side of James' face. He then looked the man up and down and sighed. "I'm trying my best to be civil with you, but do not take my kindness for weakness. I wish only for your secret, friend." he said. James growled.

"You're tryin' to be civil, but I don't even know your name? That's certainly civil of you." James replied in contempt. The man replied, seemingly understanding James' point.

"I see, I see. You wish to know the name of your captor?" he said as he smiled again. "My name is Johann Schmidt. But the men around this facility and those under my command know me more specifically as the Red Skull." he said. "Now, if you would be so kind as to introduce yourself to me, we can get these formalities out of the way." James frowned and growled.

"James Howlett." James replied simply. Schmidt shook his head in disgust.

"You Americans are so rude." he said as he sucked his teeth.

"I'm Canadian." James replied angrily.

"Even worse." Schmidt retorted. "Now, back to my question...how did you survive their attacks?" he asked. James took his gaze off of Schmidt, mostly to get his rotting face from directly in front of his nose and to consider his answer. He honestly didn't know how he had survived. He could tell Schmidt anything he wanted and he would take it as truth. But what could he do if he answered truthfully?

"I don't know..." James said. "Maybe something to do with my genes, my body." Schmidt laughed.

"Ah, I see. DNA. There is something about you that is far superior to human beings and it gives you these tremendous healing abilities. Well, I believe..." Schmidt said as he turned around and James heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed. Schmidt turned around and held a small scalpel to James' neck. "Dissection is in order to understand what is different." As James was ready to growl his displeasure, he heard something off in the distance like the sound of metal crashing against somebody's face. Schmidt didn't seem to notice or he didn't care. Probably the former since he continued to speak. "Whatever gift you have, it isn't fair for only you to have this ability. I don't believe that God would only gift you with this." he said. James growled. He had heard that before. It had come out of Dog's mouth.

"Believe me, bub. I ain't the only one. In fact, I know a worthless piece of shit that'll glad be dissected." he replied. Schmidt laughed.

"Too bad there's already one in front of me." he said as he closed in on James.

"Step back, Schmidt!" a voice called from the entrance to James' cell. Schmidt and James turned to the entrance and Schmidt's face frowned deeply while James stared in confusion. The man that stood in the doorway wore a brown leather jacket and a blue bucket helmet with a white "A" on the front. He wore paratrooper goggles and had a M1 Garand strapped to his back along with a large, circular red, white and blue shield that had a large white star in the middle of the shield. James stifled a laugh. He looked like a patriotic clown. Schmidt didn't share in his laughter. Instead, he seemed to tense up slightly.

"Captain America..." Schmidt said. He then lowered his scalpel from James' neck and twirled it around his fingers. "I thought I left you in Poland, bleeding out in an alley with rats feasting on your flesh." The man chuckled softly.

"You did. Thing is, I heal pretty fast. Anyway, there's nowhere to run now, Schmidt." Captain America said. James watched the two and stared confused. The two obviously knew each other from sometime, but never before had he eve heard of a fucking Captain America or a Red Skull. What the hell was going on? Was this war really not what he thought? Schmidt smiled.

"Who said anything about running!" he yelled as he raced towards the Star-Spangled Hero and sent a punch his way. Captain America raised his arm to block the hit but was then punished by a knee to his abdomen as Schmidt then grabbed him by his throat and flipping him and slamming him onto the ground. As he tried to descend onto Captain America again, the war hero raised his shield and sent it crashing into Schmidt's jaw, knocking up into the air and causing him to crash against the wall. Blood flowed freely from his mouth and spat as a small bloody tooth fell. Captain America's face remained hardened and Schmidt growled softly as he rose to his feet.

James yawned. Whatever purpose this "Captain America" was intended to serve, he had failed in his opinion. James began to pull at his chains as the two men continued to trade punches and kicks. The chains were tight enough to pull at his skin and rip it down to the bone. But that wasn't a problem. He had endured worse. James pulled as hard as he could to release his wrists, The metal creaked loudly and underneath that sound was the sound of James' groans as his skin began to rip and his left wrist began to become freed.

Captain America and Schmidt continued to fight, unwary of what James was doing. Their fighting was growing much more intense and violent as Schmidt began to slice at the Captain's throat with his scalpel, while Captain America was using the edge of his shield to serve a dual purpose; It was both a "blade" and a guard. Blood spurted against the wall and on the ground as James released his wrists from the restraints. With his left hand free, James unsheathed his claws and cut at the chains holding his right hand. The sound of the metal clanging caused Schmidt and Captain America to stop briefly band stare at James. James continued to slash at his chain until finally, he felt it weaken. With a strong pull, he pulled the weak link from the rest of the chain and then unsheathed his second set of claws. Sensing something was off, James looked up and saw the two men staring at him.

"What, you've never seen a man with claws before?" he asked as he cut the feet restraints and leapt towards the Red Skull, roaring. Schmidt instantly jumped into action, skillfully avoiding James' claws and grabbing him by his still healing wrists. With quick and decisive ferocity, Schmidt stabbed into James' bones with the scalpel, also cutting arteries and causing blood to spurt out. James growled loudly as he felt his wrist briefly become paralyzed. Captain America came from behind and grabbed at Schmidt's back, only to be backhanded by the bloodthirsty Red Skull. Schmidt tossed James to the ground and raised his scalpel above him.

"You are strong, Canadian. But you made a mistake trying to attack me." he said as he drove the scalpel down.

"No." James said suddenly as he grabbed Schmidt's arms, causing the Nazi to stare in shock. James snarled. "You made a mistake. You made me angry!" he yelled as he unsheathed his claws and sliced Schmidt's arm off at the shoulder. As the Red Skull's arm flew across the room, blood sprayed everywhere, painting the dungeon a deep crimson red. Captain America raised his shield and blocked most of the liquid while James simply embraced his enemy's blood. Schmidt's eyes were glazed over in shock as he used his one good arm to crawl into a corner. As James closed in to finish the job and take Schmidt's head for a trophy, he felt a strong hand hold him back. When he turned around, all he saw was red, white, and blue.

"It's over, soldier. He's finished." the Captain said. James spat.

"No, he's not." he said as he unsheathed his second set of claws. "Not yet." James pushed past the Captain's grip only to feel it clamp down on his shoulder, stronger than before. When James' turned, Captain America's serious blue eyes met his own.

"Yes, he is. He's done. He's in too much shock to even move. Killing him won't win this war. We need to take him back for questioning. Stand down, soldier." Captain America said, tightening his grip on James' shoulders. James pulled his shoulder away and stared over at Schmidt, who lied shivering in a pool of his own blood, staring blankly into space. Something about him was off. He looked like a man who was unprepared for death and had some sort of innocence in his eyes, not like a genuine frost-hearted Nazi. This man, whoever he was seemed like he didn't know what was happening. James pressed forward towards him, his claws sheathed this time. He leaned down in front of the man and stared into his eyes.

"Are you Johann Schmidt?" he asked. The man whimpered and quickly nodded his head. James growled. He smelled it. Even under his carved face, he had retained his sweat glands and despite being in shock, his heart rate would still rush if he was lying. Which he was. James stood up and growled.

"This ain't Schmidt. He's a goddamned decoy." James said as he walked past the Captain. Captain America turned around.

"What? How do you know?" he asked. James pointed to his nose.

"I can smell when a person's lying because they start to perspire slightly and I can hear it when their heart rate changes. This man isn't who you're looking for. Whoever the hell this Red Skull is, he's probably trained more people like this man to act like him and fight like him." James said. Captain America slammed his fist against the wall, causing cracks to stretch the entire dungeon.

"Damn it. So we just put an innocent man on the threshold of death?" Captain America said as he shook his head. James frowned and scoffed.

"You didn't. I did." he said. There was barely any shame or remorse in James' voice. In all true honesty, he didn't give a damn about this man. He was a Nazi and they all deserved to die. That was his drive. People who did what he did, whether they were the Red Skull or not were scum. As far as he was concerned, it was one less Nazi. Captain America shook his head.

"Looks like I'll have some explaining to do when I get back to base." he said as he turned to walk out.

"That's if you get out!" a voice called. James and the Captain turned around and saw the Red Skull impostor holding a detonator. "Don't you dare try to run! When I press this button, this entire facility will self-destruct. You will all..." he said. Before he even finished his sentence, the Captain's circular shield had ricocheted off his skull and back into his hand. However, the threat wasn't ended. As the unconscious man fell, his face on top of the fallen detonator. Suddenly, an alarm was sounded and James heard multiple Germans shouting and scrambling around outside the dungeon and on the floors above him. A voice came over the intercom and he instantly sounded frantic as he began to speak.

"_Omega-Protokoll ist in Kraft! Alle Personen, die Evakuierungszone sofort zu melden!_" he yelled. James turned to the Captain whose face had turned grave.

"You speak German?" he asked. The Captain nodded.

"Yes...and we don't have that much time. We need to get out of this place, now!" the Captain yelled as he raised down the hallway. He was much faster than James had thought and left him down the hallway as he observed his surroundings. He then waved over to James. "Come on, soldier! We don't have time to waste!' he said as he turned the corner. James spat. He wasn't fully sure of his healing capabilities but he was certain that he didn't want to test it out with enough explosives to take out an entire facility. James followed closely as close as he could after the speedy Captain who seemed to notice that James had trouble keeping up. James waved him ahead.

"Don't worry, go ahead! I'll follow your scent!" James yelled as the Captain turned the corner quickly. The entire hallway was lined with red lights and as James ascended up the stairs. He could the sounds of panicking Germans as they yelled amongst each other, possibly trying to find a way out judging from their fear scent. James followed the Captain's scent down the hallway and then farther to the left, running past a few soldiers who must've been caught in a stampede and trampled. He continued going until he made it outside and panted as he looked around. The Captain's scent was still heavy in the air and when James looked to his left, he saw the Captain waving his hand. He was standing next to what seemed to be a two-man fighter plane and he was urging him to hurry up.

James climbed up the ladder leading to the plane and at the Captain's behest, jumped inside. He turned to the blonde man , who was beginning to fasten himself into the front seat. In front of James, there was a machine gun and he looked at it and the Captain worriedly.

"You know how to fly this thing?" he asked. The Captain smiled.

"I think so." he replied. James frowned.

"Doesn't sound too promising."

"Don't worry. It looks like a heavily modified Messerschmitt Bf 109, probably designed for the real Red Skull. Anyway, once my adrenaline kicks in, I'll be able to fly it properly so I advise you to hold on until then." the Captain yelled. James groaned.

"That's just swell." he replied. Captain America was able to start the plane with no problem and drive it on the strip with ease. As he began to accelerate however, his piloting skills began to falter. The plane's speed caused James to be lurched forward multiple times as they hit bumps on the strip. The propeller's loud buzzing sound was making James feel nauseated, his enhanced hearing being a weakness for now. The Captain gave him a thumbs up as the plane rose up into the air. James shuddered as he watched the ground grow farther and farther away. He hated heights.

"How you doing back there, soldier?" Captain America yelled back to James. James looked behind him and sighed.

"Just make sure you don't crash the damned thing. I'm not really into the flying thing." James said. The Captain laughed.

"Yeah, you do seem like a man that likes being grounded." The Captan said. He then looked back to James. "By the way, I never got your name." he said.

"The name's James Howlett." James replied gruffly.

"Steve Rogers, but lately, everybody's been calling me 'Captain America'. I guess that's what seven months of propaganda work will get you." the Captain said. James looked the Captain up and down and sighed. Given his blatant American colors, it seemed like the Captain liked being a propaganda piece. However, judging from his combat skills, he was more than just that. In that regard, he had earned James' respect, if nothing else. If he could take him away from this hellhole and get them out in one piece, James would owe him his life.

The Captain's flying was going pretty well. The plane remained stable and the Captain seemed to be getting the hang of it. However, there was a problem. The advanced Messerscmitt's engineering happened to come with a radar system as well. And it was detecting something. When the Captain took a look at the radar, his face shrunk into a frown. Whatever he saw bad and from the beeping that James heard, it was far from an ideal situation.

"We've got a problem." Captain America said. James scoffed.

"Really now?" he asked sarcastically. Ignoring his tone, the Captain nodded.

"We've got about seven aerial hostiles that are rapidly approaching, Seems like we're not the only ones with advanced planes." Captain America replied. James heard several low fluttering sounds that seemed to be much closer to them then previously thought. When James looked out the machine gun sight, he groaned.

"I think we've got some company, Cap." Rogers looked at his radar and sighed.

"I'm picking up several fighter planes inbound." he said. James sucked his teeth.

"Then somebody's got some kind of radar interference because I see more than 'several' planes." James said. He then shrugged. "Might as well get to firing. Keep this damn bird steady, Cap." James pulled his finger back on the trigger as the recoiled made his head shake like a rapid-fire bobble head. Immediately, gunfire was returned and the Captain managed to keep the plane stable enough for James to make his shots. Once the belt ran out of bullets however and the Captain heard James' firing cease, he looped the plane downwards abruptly. James fell to the floor, growling and raking his fingernails into the floor like a cat.

"Everything alright back there?" the Captain asked.

"The hell do you think? Warn me next time you try to perform aerial theatrics." James yelled as he searched the back of the plane for another belt of bullets. When he found it, he gasped. There was a larger plane emerging from the clouds. The color of midnight in the depths of a black hole and the size of five fighter planes combined, the most prominent feature of the ship was the large red emblem on the side. As the plane grew closer, James could see the multiple snake-like extensions curled around the skull. James had never in his life seen a ship like this. It looked so far beyond this era that it was unreal. What kind of technology was this?

"Damn..." James heard Rogers say. He turned towards him and frowned.

"What the hell is that thing?" James yelled. Rogers shook his head.

"HYDRA..." he said softly. "HANG ON!" Rogers yelled as whipped the plane sharply to the right, sending it almost into a U-Turn. The immense HYDRA ship followed his movements almost exactly as it loomed over their small plane. James held onto his seat as they plummeted downwards. Rogers pulled up quickly and James felt himself hit the roof and then the floor. He growled as he looked outside of the plane and saw the HYDRA ship continuing to follow them. However, it seemed to have stopped. But it's guns hadn't. They were moving...and aiming directly at them.

"Cap!" James yelled. The plane began to weave back and forth and Rogers began to zig zag the plane before finally ducking downwards...but that was the very least of James' issues. As the plane began to descend, a bright blue beam sped towards the back of the plane. The impact set the cockpit on fire and the back of the plane explode, launching James' charred body through the windshield. The wind slapped his face as he rocketed towards the ground, clouds passing him by as the multi-colored sky began to transition into the singularity of midnight blue ocean. As James began to prepare himself for the painful face plant into the water, he felt hands grab him and suddenly felt his fall slow. When he looked up, it was none other than the Captain with a parachute.

"You alright, soldier?" Rogers asked. James spat.

"I wudda been fine." James replied.

"Your a tough guy, but even you couldn't survive this, pal." Rogers said. James scoffed.

"You'd be surprised." he said. James' ears pricked up and he looked up into the sky as the HYDRA plane appeared, lowering itself through the clouds. The massive plane's guns lowered and aimed towards the Captain's parachute. Without a second's hesitation, it fired again. Frantically, James cut the lines connecting them to the parachute and immediately the two began to plummet. The blue ball of fire that the HYDRA ship fired barely passed their heads and James growled as he saw the water grow closer. "Cap, if we survive this, I swear I'm going to kill you!" After those words left James' mouth, he heard another shot being fired. As the reflection of the blast hit the water, James sighed. "Aw hell."

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><p><strong>Next, World War Part II...<strong>


	6. World War Part II

**A/N: It's been too long. Much too long. But you know what? I'm **revigorated** and ready to pump out new material. Please note that certain creative liberties have been taken with history. So without further ado...I give you World War Part II...**

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><p>"How are his vitals?" a voice said.<p>

"They're stable. Surprisingly." another voice replied.

"It's amazing either one of them survived. I'd like to see what this chap's made of. Wait...what the hell?" the first voice said.

James Howlett rocketed up from the bed he laid in, roaring as he grabbed the man to his right and threw him across the room. The man to his left ran out of the room, screaming and waving his arms as he called for security. James' ears rang and his head pounded. The last thing he remembered was crashing face first into the Atlantic Ocean with the Captain above him. Everything he smelled now was strange and his mind was frenzied He had no clue where the Captain was or who these people were. As far as James was concerned, he had somehow been captured.

James raced around like a wild man, almost unaware of his bare behind showing in the gown he wore. Down the hall, James spotted men dressed in what looked like military uniform running towards him. James snarled as he saw that had rifles, M1 Garands from the look of the, pointed at him. With a animalistic roar, James rushed forward and felt the familiar pain of his claws drawing in his knuckles as he made his final leap.

"James, stand down!" a voice rang in Howlett's ears. James recognized it instantly and before he even landed, withdrew his claws and stopped short of the two soldiers. James turned to the direction that the voice came and saw a familiar red, white and blue figure. It was the Captain. With the Captain in his sights, James relaxed somewhat but he still wanted answers.

"What the hell is this?" he snarled. "Where am I?" he demanded. The Captain's face stayed cool as he walked towards James.

"The Strategic Defense base. My base of operations. I brought you here after hauling you through the Atlantic for four hours until help arrived." The Captain said. James scoffed.

"I guess you're expecting some kind of 'thank you' or some such shit?" he said. The Captain shook his head and shrugged.

"No, not exactly...but I do have a favor to ask of you." Captain America said. James frowned and bore his teeth in a snarl and walked up into the Captain's face.

"What kind of favor, bub?" James said.

"The kind of favor that requires you to listen and follow orders." a booming voice came from down the hall. James turned and saw a tall man with a grizzled salt and pepper mustache dressed in an United States Army general uniform walking towards him and the Captain. Rogers immediately assumed attention while James watched with wary eyes. Whoever this man was, he exuded an air of power and authority and when he got closer, James could see the battle-hardened face he wore. He had certainly been through some shit.

"General Philips, sir!" the Captain said. General Philips nodded and then looked at James.

"At ease, Rogers." Philips said as he looked James up and down, inspecting him. James resisted the urge to growl or spit like he would have any other "commanding" officer that came before this man. Who the hell was he? Philips turned around and James noticed for the first time that Philips was carrying a folder and an envelope. "Rogers told me when he brought you in that you were a man like none he had ever seen before but you don't look like anything special." James growled.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't know about me or anything I've been through. I'm warning you, bub. Watch your fucking tone with me." James snapped. Philips stood flat-footed and scowled.

"You're right, son. I don't know a goddamned thing about you. But you know what? All I see before me is another disrespectful young bastard who thinks the world revolves around him and his problems. This 'favor' that Rogers is asking of you is a delicate mission that requires you to put the needs of others before yourself. Why he'd ask you is beyond me...you don't even qualify." Philips replied with an almost equal acidity in his words. James seethed.

"Just so I know we're on the same level of understanding here now, General." James growled. "I didn't ask or need to be saved. In fact, I would've been happy with drownin' to death but your big red, white and blue boy scout 'saved' me, so I'm here. I don't owe anybody any favors. I just want peace." James said as he began to walk away from the two Americans.

"You'll never find it, James. Not while this war goes on." Rogers said. James turned back towards him and scoffed.

"As long as there's an angry bastard with some power and a gun, there'll be wars, bub." James said. Rogers gulped.

"Then be the angry bastard with a gun that ends it all." he said. James frowned and sighed. He had always thought of himself as a stubborn and bullheaded man, but he always seemed to be easily persuaded by people he had put his trust in. Captain America was no different. Even though he would never admit it to anyone (or himself), Rogers had given him another chance to live. Maybe this was why. Perhaps he could help do something. Maybe after this, he would have some form of peace. James walked forward and looked at the General and then to the Captain. With a groan, he wiped his face.

"Fine, bub. What do I have to do?" James said as he folded his arms. General Philips handed James a folder. James opened it and squinted his eyes at what he saw.

**_Witold Pilecki. Auschwitz Extraction._**

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><p><strong>April 27, 1943, Auschwitz Concentration Camp<strong>

The malodorous stench of death hung in James' nose as he and the Captain pulled up in the German transport truck into Auschwitz. In order to infiltrate this camp, James and Rogers had assumed the identity of two officers operating under the _SS-Totenkopfverbände_, known to the English speaking world as the "Death's-Head Unit". Entering into their ranks had been a carefully planned yet precarious situation. But now, after all their struggles, they were here. James didn't know whether to feel triumphant or sickened. As he and the Captain exited their transport vehicle, James nearly froze. Throughout the camp, James could see nothing but gaunt, pale, sickly humans standing in lines, squatting and being counted. James' mouth nearly gaped when he _smelled _the dead bodies that the other prisoners held up. James stared at the officer counting the prisoners. He couldn't hide the scowl that was on his face. He flexed his knuckles. James felt something tap him and looked over to see Rogers. His eyes were stern yet sympathetic. James knew that the two of them felt the same way. But just as General Philips had told them, they had to focus on the mission at hand.

It was a delicate extraction operation and finding their target, Witold Pilecki, would be difficult. Witold Pilecki was a Polish soldier and a secret agent for the Polish Resistance. According to their intelligence, Pilecki had purposely been captured in order to do reconnaissance for the Poles on this particular camp. How any Allied force, let alone Rogers' specific unit, had discovered his existence in the camp was beyond James. But he knew that the time had come for his extraction and that was what he was here for. As James felt right now, he wanted to get every single prisoner out of this camp now and kill as many of the SS fucks that he could. But, their mission greatly required stealth. Rogers had made that very clear.

After they had received their orders from their "leader", the _Lagerführer_, James and Rogers went on patrol around the camp as a pair. James desperately tried to keep calm while the Captain kept his cool throughout their entire walk. James frowned. He had been a soldier the last eighty years of his life and had seen so many gruesome images of men dying, their limbs blown off by cannons and gunfire...but he couldn't imagine why he felt so angry at the treatment of these prisoners. Maybe he saw a bit of his old self in them. Sickly, cold...victims. Ever walking in fear that any day they could face death. Like James had felt.

For years, he had run from Dog, constantly looking over his shoulder and sniffing the air to see if he could smell him. He never wanted to be caught unaware, always alert. But he was a victim. He wanted to simply live his life in peace and be left alone, but wherever he had gone, Dog followed him. He was surprised that the bastard hadn't tracked him across the Atlantic.

James felt something hit him and looked down. In front of him stood an emaciated boy with a dirty blue and gray uniform that was too small for him. The boy looked up at him with panicked grey eyes. James looked over him further. On his exposed left arm, James saw the numbers "24005". James narrowed his eyes and looked around. No one seemed to notice that this prisoner had broken away from wherever he had been.

"_Wie heißen Sie_?" James asked the boy for his name. Frozen, the child slowly spoke.

"_Zwei. Vier..._" James shook his head and frowned.

"_Nein...wie hei_ßen__ echter _Sie_?" James said. The young boy looked confused. He had attempted to give his identification number. He paused but answered nevertheless.

"E-Erik..." he replied. James nodded and glanced back at Rogers as he watched for anyone. When the Captain gave the all-clear, James turned back to the young boy.

"_Gut, gut._" he said softly. He breathed in slowly, trying to remember the words he had learned over the past year. "_Ich bin für Häftling Vier-Acht-Fünf-Neun_." James said, asking for Pilecki by his prisoner I.D. number. Erik looked even more frightened than before. James could smell the fear scent radiating off of him. He was definitely hiding something.

"_Ich weiß nicht_..." Erik replied. James frowned. He knew the child was lying to him. He could smell it. The defiant but fearful look in his eyes shocked James. Was this boy really standing up to a SS officer? James couldn't help but smirk. The boy had balls. James grabbed the boy by his shoulder and pushed him, forcefully but still more gently than the other officers would have, behind a shack. Rogers brushed past James in order to talk to the boy. Nodding, the blue-eyed, burly man stood in the corner of the shack. He could hear Rogers speaking soft, fluent German to the boy before switching to a different language that James could only barely make out. He sometimes forgot that Rogers had been doing this particular line of espionage work longer than him. James had never had a mind for stealth.

Rogers tapped James' shoulder and the Captain nodded to him. The two men followed Erik into another shack. Inside, the prisoners were hard at work, sweating and panting from whatever horrible labors the Nazis had put them up to. Over the normal scent of death and sickness, they smelled of soot and gunpowder like they were working a mine. James froze and listened around and heard a loud SS officer yelling out orders and the clanking of hammers and pickaxes. It all seemed to be underneath them. No officers were above supervising the prisoners who worked as hardily as they would if there was an officer here. James realized with a shudder that from the fear that sparked in their eyes, they thought that he and Rogers were one of them.

He opened his mouth and took in a deep breath and coughed. The air tasted foul and even more foreign than before. Everything about this place gave off a weird sort of energy that James could feel itching at his skin. It was breathlessly hot in here. James turned his eyes on the Captain. "What the hell is this place?" he whispered. The Captain shook his head.

"I don't know..." he muttered. Erik tugged at the two of them and pulled them forward, his bony hand wrapping James' knuckles and pulled him forward. The three of them approached a circle of prisoners hammering away and when James and Rogers came within their view, the prisoners stiffened and stopped talking. Running, Erik grabbed one of the men, a bald man with bushy eyebrows, and brought him towards them. The man looked startled as Erik brought him closer and took in a deep breath and went rigid as if he expected to be hit. Rogers spoke, once again in English.

"Witold Pilecki?" he said softly. The man's eyes brightened and a small smile crossed his face.

"You have come, yes?" Witold replied. Rogers nodded.

"Indeed, we have." he said. "My unit understands that your report on Auschwitz has been completed. Me and my partner are here to break you out and take this information to the Allied Forces." Witold nodded and then looked at the people around him and then back towards the Captain.

"I am able to bring _przyjaciele_?" he asked. Rogers weighed the request steadily but before he could answer, James stepped forward. He had seen enough and even though he didn't know exactly what Pilecki had said, he was determined to free as many people from this hell as he could.

"Yes, bring as many people as you can muster. We're breaking you out of this place." James growled. Rogers shot James a glare and then raised his hands to quell the excitement that started to rouse from James' words. James almost felt betrayed.

"Listen, listen...Witold, this 'break out' has to be as covert as possible." Rogers glanced at James, and the man growled lowly. Rogers continued. "I have a plan of action but only two people can leave with you. You'll have until nightfall to decide who you want. Just make sure you're ready to depart when I come get you. Are we clear?" Witold's expression shifted from excited to crestfallen but his tone maintained his hopefulness. At the end of the day, James knew that Pilecki was a soldier and a damn good one if he had survived this long without getting his cover blown. He understood the implications of this mission far better than James ever could. nodded.

"_Tak, towarzyszu_. I understand. _Dwa_, only." Witold said, holding up two fingers. Rogers nodded.

"Then it's agreed. When it's dark, we'll find your sleeping quarters and take you and the two that you've chosen with us and we'll get you out of here and into Allied hands as quickly and safely as we can." Rogers said. James heard SS officers approaching and tapped Rogers. The entrance to the shack opened and Rogers went rigid. "_Holen Sie sich zurück an die Arbeit_!" he yelled, feigning a strike at the prisoners, immediately, they went back to picking and hammering away at the ground while James and Rogers pretended to supervise. James watched the officers as they entered out of his peripheral and noticed the _Lagerführer _from earlier in the day. Why was he visiting this supposed mine? Rogers seemed to want to leave as the four SS officers entered but stopped in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and gasped. James saw what he did too. The _Lagerführer _had the distinctive skull with several snake heads stretching from it next to his red, white and black _swastika. _Rogers looked over to James and the Canadian nodded.

After the _Lagerführer_ and his men passed through the cavern, Rogers followed them and James fell in behind him. Rogers was deathly silent as they crept through the deepening tunnel. James sniffed around and the foreign nauseating scent that he had smelled above ground was growing stronger. In fact, he realized that he had smelled the same scent before. His mind when back to being captured by the decoy Red Skull and flying that wretched piece of shit plane over the Atlantic. He had smelled the energy beam that shot them down and it smelled exactly like what he smelled now.

The eerie blue light that he saw as he and the Captain rounded the corner confirmed what he suspected. The _Lagerführer_ nodded his approval as he overlooked the mining and spoke to a SS officer overseeing the prisoners. James looked around, taking in as much he could and thinking. He knew what this meant. The reason for the mine and the collecting all these prisoners in this shack. Whatever was down in this cave was being mined out to the real Red Skull's organization, HYDRA and he was using that to advance his weapons. But what was this bright, blue ore? Where had it come from? Rogers turned to James and nodded, signifying that James wouldn't find out the answer right now. He was sure that Rogers would report to Philips when they got back but right now, they had another mission at hand. As they made their way back out onto the muddy yard, James realized that all they had to do now was wait.

-/-

**Later that night...**

"Are you ready?" Rogers asked James, who spat and rose from his seat. He had been more than ready. The last few hours of the day had been horrid and it had taken every fiber of James' being to not completely blow the mission. He had witnessed the gassing of three entire shacks full of prisoners. He heard their screams as the gas came and the slowing of their hearts as they finally found peace in death. James was angry. He couldn't help but feel any other way. It made him angrier that Rogers had been calm and unfeeling this entire time.

"Yeah, I'm finished watching innocent people get slaughtered." James growled. Rogers nodded and sighed.

"I am too." he said softly. James shot him a glare.

"Oh really? Cause to me, you looked like the rest of these Nazi bastards just watchin' all this shit happen with a flint face. You're no better than them!" In an instant, Rogers' blue eyes flashed with anger and he grabbed James by his collar and lifted him up off the ground. The Captain glowered at James.

"Don't ever compare me to them, James. Don't make that mistake again." Rogers' gaze then softened. "I care for these lost lives as much or more than you do, but we have a mission and a part to play. The Death's-Head aren't allowed to show softness to their prisoners. If anyone would've saw your emotional reaction to the things they've done, it would've blown the mission." Rogers let James down and exhaled. "What we're doing today will end this godawful war and save lives. It's almost over." Rogers said. James didn't speak for a while. Rogers had a point...but James couldn't help feeling that this kind of horror would continue. Not only between humans of different races, but if there were others like him, between his kind and humankind.

"Let's just get Witold and leave." James said as he grabbed his rifle and sniffed the air. James had made sure to remember the scent of Witold and even with the rest of the terrible odors in this camp, his nose was more than strong enough to make it out. Immediately, James followed his nose forward and Rogers followed. Before long, James found the shack where Witold was. Two guards patrolled the yard and Rogers looked around.

"How do we get past without raising alarm?" he said softly. James already knew how. He unsheathed his claws and without a word, raced across the yard. James was mindful to lower the sound of his steps below his level of hearing until he was near silent. He was methodically moving towards the first guard, blending in well with the darkness and avoiding the floodlights that watched over the grounds. Within seconds, he was near the guard. The man opened mouth to yawn only for James' middle claw to stab through the back of his head and jut out his open mouth. James pulled his claw out with enough force to snap the man's head backwards and the cracking of bone told James that he was dead. James crossed over to the second guard, abandoning the stealth that he used on the first guard. Before the SS officer even knew who or what was running towards him, James' claws burrowed into his neck and chest. The sweet but metallic scent of blood sent James into a brief high, but he caught himself and remembered where he was...and Dog's words that still haunted him.

_You'll be like me. A monster with no family and no love._

James shook his head clear and looked over Rogers and waved him over. Without waiting for him, James entered the shack and saw Witold, awake and sitting on the edge of his bed. With him, he had another man and Erik. The three of them stared at James frightfully and James realized that his claws were still drawn with blood dripping from them. He sheathed them and looked over the three prisoners.

"Are you ready?" he said. Witold nodded and he and his companions quickly ran through the open door. James quickly followed them and Rogers was outside waiting for them. He glanced over at James and then looked over the prisoners. While Rogers ran over the plans to the prisoners in Polish, James watched over the yard, constantly sniffing the air and listening for any approaching officers. James looked inside the shack and looked over the rest of the prisoners. Gaunt and sickly, they'd be lucky to last the night let alone make it through this ordeal. He wanted to save them all...but he couldn't. He just ad to hope that the Allies could come through with the plan. If Witold's report truly reported everything that James had witnessed himself, then he couldn't see how they'd refuse to help.

When Rogers was finished giving instructions, he turned to James. His expression was grim. "Good work, James. Now let's free these folks." Rogers said as he and James lead the three prisoners past the first gate. Rogers looked back at James. "Play the part and we'll get out of here." he whispered. James nodded and walked with the Captain to the outer gate where they we stopped by a group of SS officers.

"_Wo bringen Sie diese Gefangenen_?" the lead officer said, asking where the prisoners were heading. Witold and his companions were rigid but Rogers spoke up immediately.

"_Bäckerei Pflicht_." he replied, pointing to the camp bakery outside of the fence. The SS officers turned and for a short time said nothing. The silence was unnerving James and the urge was arising to lay waste to these bastards and just escape. But finally, the SS officers nodded and let them pass through. With a sigh of relief, James walked with his group through the gate and after a small walk, they entered the bakery. Inside, a single guard sat inside, tasting a few loaves of bread. When he saw James and Rogers enter with the prisoners he wrinkled his nose in disgust. The Captain ordered the prisoners to work while he and James exchanged a glance. How would they take out the guard?

The guard approached the two of them and started engaging in a conversation with the Captain in German that James didn't pay attention to. James scanned the room looking for an exit. He walked away from the two as they talked and came up to a door. To his surprise, the bakery was elevated, James opened the door and looked around. To his chagrin, two other guards were placed outside. James nodded to the two of them and looked out over the flat grass plain that extended into dense forest. He was so close to completing the mission. All he had to do was get these prisoners out of the bakery...

Shouting erupted inside the bakery and the two guards rushed past James and through the door. James slowly followed behind him and to his disbelief, the guard inside had Rogers at gunpoint and was talking rapidly in German. Rogers had placed himself between the SS guard and the prisoners. The two guards that came from outside had now aimed their guns at Rogers as James crept behind them. The Captain had clearly fucked up somehow, but now wasn't the time to revel. There was only one way it would end.

"Fuck this!" he snarled as he unsheathed his claws and stabbed one guard through his chest and threw him into the guard next to him. The man who had the Captain at gunpoint could only watch as James picked the dead man off of the still living (and pissing from the smell) guard and threw him to the side. Screaming, the guard looked up at James with quivering lips. James felt no sympathy. He ripped through his face with his claws and turned his glare over to the guard with the gun. James paused and heard that the sounds of SS officers talking and running. It was getting closer. They didn't have much time left. James didn't care. He would've welcomed the entire SS to come and try their hand at fighting him but not now. Not with prisoners. He couldn't risk their lives.

The man with the gun began shouting obscenities in German and turned his gun on Rogers' head. James didn't know what to do now. His instinct told him to leap forward and kill the man and rush out but he didn't know how fast the guard would pull the trigger. It seemed like he didn't have a choice but to just wait until...

The guard gasped as the gun ripped from his hand. James thought briefly that the Captain had knocked it away but instead, the weapon floated in the air and turned towards the guard. Rogers moved aside and looked over towards the oven. James looked too and his eyes widened. It was Erik. He was levitating the gun. However he was doing, it seemed to be putting great strain on his body. Without any more hesitation, Erik somehow pulled the trigger and the guard's brains splattered back on the wall and he fell dead. James turned to Erik as the gun fell to the floor and then looked at Witold. The Polish soldier didn't look at all shocked. He must've known the entire time what this boy was capable. James' eyes drifted back to Erik. With sudden jolt, James realized that he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only abnormal human. They didn't have the same power set, but they were the same, somehow. James looked over at Rogers.

"We have to get out of here, now. Guards are coming." James said. Rogers looked around.

"Did you find anyway to escape?" the Captain asked. James nodded and led the group outside of the bakery.

"We could climb down, but it might take too long." James said locking eyes with Rogers. "We'll have to jump." Rogers stepped back.

"Jump? Are you crazy? We're escorting people, valuable packages. We can't risk their lives." Rogers said. James shook his head.

"Fine. You climb down the ladder and I'll hold off the reinforcements." James said.

"No." Rogers said. "You jump down and wait for them to climb down. Fight anyone that tries to capture them. I'll fight off whoever comes this way. Go. That's an order." Rogers said. James smirked.

"Bub, I'm not one of your commandos. You can't order me around." James said. Before Rogers could reply, James raised his hand and waved the prisoners over towards him and the ladder. "Climb down." he told Witold. The Polish man looked up at him.

"What about you?" he asked. James shrugged and climbed onto the railing.

"I'm jumping." he said as he leapt from the railing. He met the ground feet first and he felt his femur and tibia break underneath him. The pain was sharp but James knew that he'd be fully healed within a few moments. The prisoners were climbing down and up above them, here heard the sounds of Rogers fighting the SS guards. It sounded like he was winning. Erik was the first to touch the ground and ran over next to James. Witold and the other prisoner came afterwards and stood next to James as they waited for Rogers to rear his head. The sounds of yelling and fighting persisted. "Whenever you're fucking ready, Cap!" James shouted up into the room. Almost immediately, he saw Rogers leap out of the bakery with a screaming German locked in his arms as the two descended towards the ground. The bakery went up in a fiery explosion above them and James pushed Erik back. The Captain crashed into the ground a few yards in front of them, using the SS officer as a cushion. Rogers recovered quickly and joined James and the prisoners. With a smile, Rogers hurried them along.

"Come on. Let's bring your report to the Allies."

* * *

><p><strong>August 5, 1945, Strategic Defense Headquarters, Unknown Location<strong>

James sat casually, guzzling down beer after beer. The haze of drunkenness was finally started to set in and he took that as a reward for all of his actions as of late. Since the mission at Auschwitz, James had decided to stay under the command of General Philips as long as he was able to partner with Captain America. For the last two years, the two of them had done tours all over the European and Mediterranean Theaters of this war. Sadly, despite the Captain's earlier promises, their mission at Auschwitz hadn't brought any closure to the war.

Witold's report had been read but its content had been deemed exaggerated and all attempts to receive help to free the remaining prisoners had gone unheard. It wasn't until the Red Army liberated the camp earlier in January that the Captain's promise had finally been fulfilled. Mussolini and Hitler's death followed soon after and with that, the European Theater had been closed. But for the Strategic Defense unit, there were still many questions raised.

Witold's Report had corroborated James and the Captain's claims that the Nazis had been using their Holocaust prisoners to mine some mysterious blue ore in order to power the HYDRA machinery and guns. Witold had also used Erik and his other accomplice to secret away some of the HYDRA _Lagerführer's _documents and records. While James and the Captain had been away, the HYDRA documents were being decoded.

A chair was pulled out next to James and the familiar scent of the Captain entered his nose. Steve Rogers sat down next to James and asked for a beer. His glass slid down towards him and the Captain took and quick gulp and burped. James snickered.

"Too strong for you, boy scout?" James jeered. The Captain shook his head and coughed.

"No. Just thought it'd taste better." Rogers said. James nodded.

"I'm a Canadian Club man, myself." James said. Rogers laughed.

"The drink of Al Capone." Rogers said. James smirked.

"That's right. Capone did used to smuggle whiskey. Forgot it was Canadian Club. I should've known." James took a big gulp of his beer and sighed. "You know what, Cap." James said. Rogers burped and looked over at James.

"What's that?" he said. James rested his hands on his head.

"Over these few years, I've grown to respect you. We don't see eye to eye all the time. I've never been able to keep friends. But you...damn it, you're like a brother. You red, white and blue motherfucker..." James said, his words slurring as they came out. Rogers looked at James worried for a moment.

"Hey, you alright?" he said. James waved his hands.

"Yeah, yeah...alcohol's...just...finally getting to me...shit." James said. Rogers suppressed a laugh and then rose to his feet. Through his hazed over glaze, James saw General Philips approach the bar counter. James smiled sheepishly. "General! Have a beer!" James said. General Philips remained stoic.

"No sir, I think I'll pass. You look drunk off your ass enough for the both of us. I have news though, if you're sober enough to listen." General Philips said. James shrugged.

"It depends on what this 'news' is." James said, beckoning for another beer.

"It's about that mysterious blue ore that you found...and the Axis nuclear power." James' eyes whipped back over to the General and Rogers' mouth dropped.

"Nuclear...but how have the Axis Powers even gained that?" Rogers said. He then scowled. "HYDRA's behind it." General Philips nodded.

"Whatever was being mined in the Auschwitz site and being sent directly to the Red Skull. He then sent them out to his allies. It's supposed that Hitler didn't even know what was going on. The SS regulars didn't even know. The head of the Auschwitz guard had probably been placed there by Schmidt. Whatever the hell this blue ore was, it has the capacity to replace either plutonium or uranium. It's easier to use and faster." The General said. James felt his drunkenness slowly fade away at this bit of news.

"What the hell are they planning to do with it?" James said. General Philips face fell.

"Bombing major cities around the world." he said. "To complete this, Red Skull is launching attacks from two areas. His base somewhere in the North Atlantic and in Japan. We don't know how far reaching his attack will go, but whatever he's planning, it is up to the Strategic Defense unit to stop it." General Philips looked at Rogers and then back to James. "You two are my finest. I'm trusting in you." Philips looked at the Captain. "Rogers. You've been tracking Johann for years. The North Atlantic is yours." Rogers nodded. Philips glanced over at James. "Howlett, when you sober up, you're going to Japan." James burped and sighed.

"I'll be sober in about ten hours." he said. General Philips nodded.

"Then pack your things, because that's when you leave."

* * *

><p><strong>August 6, 1945, Hiroshima, Japan<strong>

_This is a fucking stupid idea..._James thought. For one, James was flying a Boeing P-12 that he flew out of the back of a prototype aircraft carrier made by a crazy genius named Howard Stark. Secondly, James had no idea how to fly a plane and had plummeted lower than he had expected as he made his way towards the launch site for the Blue Energy Bomb. And third, as the screams of Japanese soldiers began to fill his ears and the sight of the base grew closer, James was crashing the plane into the side of the military base that the HYDRA hid in.

James (and the plane) burst through the side of the building in a blazing explosion and leapt from the plane, groaning as fire touched his and burned down to the bone. All James could hear was wild, rapid chatter. His eyes searched the hangar for any glimpse of the HYDRA plane. Frozen with shock, James realized that the plane had just taken off. Frantic, James looked around and found another aircraft. James raced toward the fighter plane and hopped in, banging at the controls, hoping that it would start up.

"Work, you piece of horseshit!" James yelled. Almost by divine intervention or by James' angry words, the plane started and James was moving out of the hangar onto the runway to take off. James groaned as the plane left the ground. Japanese soldiers were firing desperately at the plane and James' horrific flying skills came in handy for once as he lurched in the air avoiding most shots that came towards him. James began to gain altitude and James could just make out the HYDRA plane. James willed the plane forward but at this speed, he didn't know if he could even make it within in range to do anything, let alone stop the plane. James frowned and tried to aim the machine gun attachment at the HYDRA plane and fired.

The gunfire clipped the wing and pieces flew, causing the plane to suddenly spiral. It slowed and James found himself catching up. James ascended until he found himself above the spiraling HYDRA plane. James held his breath and broke the windshield with his claws. With a leap of faith, he fell towards the HYDRA plane. The fall seemed to take an eternity and the wind slapped at James' face and body as he descended.

James landed on the plane face first and scrabbled, claws drawn, to stay on the plane. The pilot quickly spun the plane to try and dislodge James. His claws left long gouges into the plane as he slid down the side. But James was determined not to fail this mission. Lives were at stake here, Pulling himself forward, James made it to the cockpit of the plane and smashed the window. The HYDRA soldier pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at James' head. James growled.

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger. But after you do, bub..." James snarled. "Then you're mine!" Whether the soldier understood or not, James didn't know. But he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit James straight in the chest and he gasped as blood spurt from his mouth. But his grip didn't loosen. The hole healed itself almost instantaneously and James glared at him. "You missed, bub. Next time, don't lose your head." he said as he swung his claws through the soldier's neck. The HYDRA soldier's decapitated body fell from the plane and his crown tumbled after him. James spat and sliced his claws through the plane's controls. From the angle that the plane was spiraling, it would hit the water and if the bomb never fell into the ground, it wouldn't detonate. He had done it. James smiled as he leapt from the plane. He had saved-

A deafening explosion rang from a few miles behind James and he turned to see an enormous mushroom cloud. James' eyes widened as he realized that it was where he had just flew from. James' heart fell. He had failed...and thousands of lives had been lost because of it. As frustration and sorrow overcame him, James could hear Dog cackling in his head.

_Monster...like me._

What bigger monster than failure?


	7. Savage Serenity

**_"If you wish Mariko-chan's life...you'll have to get past me to take it."_**

**- _Wolverine_ _(Earth-616)_**

* * *

><p><strong>March 12, 1954, Fukuoka, Japan<strong>

"Hey! More saké!" James Howlett called out. James sat at a counter in a bar, taking in the wonderful scents that the place had to offer. For the last nine years, Japan had been his home. After the bombing at Hiroshima, James had assumed that Strategic Defense had took him for dead and after his failure in the war, James didn't want to fight any longer. Subsequent to the war, Japan had grown into a relatively peaceful nation and James was happy to live here. It was a beautiful place, more beautiful than any place he had seen during his entire life. It reminded him greatly of his Canadian homeland as well as the danger and violent memories that it held. It had been one hundred years since he had first awakened his power and had killed his father's murderer. Or had he killed his father? James didn't know.

The bartender brought James another glass of saké and James dipped his head graciously. James took a sip and let out a sigh of relief at the burning sensation in his chest. James didn't know how much he had racked up on his tab but James dropped a handful of _yen _on the counter and left the bar. As James left the bar, a cool breeze hit James' skin and he took in a deep inhale, smelling the food that cooked in markets and the bread that was pulled out of the oven. Another thing entered James' nose that caused his body to go into full alert. He smelled fear.

James turned his head in the direction where the scent was coming and followed his nose. James weaved through the crowd, dipping his head in apology to the people that cried out at his aggression and urgency. James followed the scent until he got to a small store. The scent was strongest here and James knew that the owner of the scent was inside. James twisted the knob and opened the door and examined the room. Four Japanese men were inside and none of them appeared to be the store owner. James saw a woman pressed against the counter, frozen with fear. James growled and narrowed his eyes.

"Store closed, _gaijin_. Go home." one man said. James ignored him.

"What's going on here?" he asked. Three of the men turned around, each of them wielding long thin swords. All at once, the three men rushed at James swinging their blades one after another. James instinctively unsheathed his claws and blocked the first strike. Pain shot through his arm and he pushed the three men back as he quickly examined his bone claws. The sword strike had cracked it but it healed quickly. The three assailants rushed forward again and a sword slashed at James' chest. The Canadian jumped backwards and then leapt forward and ran the man through with his claws. His attacker cried out in agony and James threw him down to the ground. The last two attackers ran forward and James ducked underneath their strikes. Their momentum carried them into his claws and their limp bodies fell to James' side. The lead man turned and held a young woman in front of him. Her face was wet with her tears and her hair stuck to her face as she cried. James growled and started to walk forward.

"No closer. Step closer, I kill her." the man said as he held his short sword on the woman's neck. James could smell a lie but the man's scent betrayed nothing. He was dangerously calm and James couldn't risk losing this woman, whoever she was. A morbid and painful idea popped into James' head. James sheathed all of his claws, save one and grabbed it. Straining, James broke his claw and swallowed the pain. The man looked terrified now. "W-what are you doing?" he whispered. James gripped his claw like a throwing knife. He prayed that he still had his accuracy from the war. James' broken claw sailed through the air and found its mark in the man's right eye and he fell to the ground, dead.

The young woman dropped to the floor and James ran over to her and held her. James moved her hair from her face and stared blankly at her face. He was utterly stunned. The woman's skin was pale and her pink lips perfectly contrasted against her skin and her hair was an deep ebony black. Her deep brown eyes looked up at James and for a moment, he felt alone in this space with her like the room wasn't littered with dead bodies. Her beauty had struck him and James felt an emotion awaken in him that he hadn't felt in seventy-six years. He was in love.

"Are you ok?" James asked. He felt stupid for speaking in English to her but to his surprise, she understood him.

"Yes." she said with a faint accent. "I'm alright." James nodded and cradled her in his arms.

"My name's James. James Howlett. Yours?" James said. The young woman smiled and James felt his chest melt.

"Yashida Mariko." she said, sweetly.

-/-

**Yashida Family Estate, Japan**

Servants opened the _shōji _doors and bowed as Mariko led James into her father's home. The entire house smelled of spices and a myriad of fragrances that caused James to relax. Mariko led James through the house and was pleasantly surprised to see everyone that saw her bow as she walked through. The two of them approached another _shoji _door, this one decorated with a design that look like a rice field covered with cherry blossom petals, and more servants opened them.

Inside this next room, James saw five men with _bokken_, wooden swords used for training. Four of the men stood on one side and the lone warrior stood on another. It looked like he intended to fight them all himself. Mariko paused at the back of the room and James stood beside her, his eyes staring intently at the fighters in front of him. The four attackers shifted elegantly from side to side but the lone warrior didn't flinch as they approach. Quickly, the four attackers dashed forward and swung their _bokken _with such speed and ferocity, James knew that the loner was finished. But he was wrong.

In one graceful stroke, the loner deflected the barrage and in another swing, he had disarmed one of the men and kicked him down. The last three rushed forward, giving a brief battle cry. The loner ducked under one swing and sent his _bokken _into the ribs of the man and whirled around to strike the next man in the face. Now, the fight was one on one. The loner didn't wait for his attacker to make the first move. Instead, he ran forward and slide on the soles of his feet as he strikes. His opponent rolled to the side and James thought that the loner would slip off of the mat. Instead, he stopped on a dime and turned. The following swordplay was magnificent. The clanging of the wood resounded in James' ears but the sounds didn't bother him. He was absolutely mesmerized by what he was seeing. Finally after one small misstep, the loner's opponent lost his balance and would've lost his life if this had been a real battle. The loner's _bokken _stopped just shy of the man's neck and the attacker dipped his head in defeat. There was no applause, only murmurs of excitement and approval. That all stopped when everyone noticed James was there.

Immediately, James saw real swords be drawn and he reared his lip in a snarl. Mariko stepped in front of him and waved her hands for everyone to calm down. A man sitting in a chair overlooking the battle floor, stepped down and approached Mariko and James.

"That is my father, Lord Yashida Shingen." Mariko said, glancing back at James. James had expected an older man. Instead, Lord Shingen was in peak physical condition and even underneath his robes, James could make out his muscularity. Lord Shingen's chest was covered in elaborate tattoos. Mariko bowed to her father as he approached and he dipped his head casually at her. His eyes were fixed onto James.

"What is the meaning of this, Mariko? Who is this _gaijin_ that you have brought into my home?" Lord Shingen asked.

"His name is James Howlett and today, he saved my life." Mariko explained. The other men in the room expressed their disbelief but Lord Shingen raised his hand for them to be silent. Now he spoke to James.

"Your people call you 'Howlett'?" Lord Shingen asked. James thought for a moment and then remembered that his last name should've come first. Respectfully, he attempted to bow.

"No, sir. My name is James. Howlett James." James said. Lord Shingen nodded.

"Okay, Howlett-san. Why did you save my daughter?" Lord Shingen asked. James shrugged.

"I smelled her fear scent and followed it to a store. Inside, four men were trying to kill her so I stopped them." James said. A scoff arose from behind Lord Shingen and James saw the loner step forward.

"Father, he's lying! How could a _inakamono _defeat four men by himself?" he said. James felt the hair on his neck stand on end and was about to reply, but Lord Shingen turned back slowly.

"The same as you or anyone else with training." he replied. He then glared at the young man. "Don't interrupt again, Keniuchio." The young man opened his mouth to protest but instead, he simply bowed.

"Forgive me, Shingen-sama." he whispered. His eyes shot up and glared at James. Lord Shingen turned to James and dipped his head.

"My apologies, Howlett-san. Keniuchio has mastered the _kenjutsu _of a samurai but lacks the courtesy." Lord Shingen said. James chuckled softly. A faint smile rose on Lord Shingen's face that was then replaced by concern. "Anyway, these men...was there anything distinctive about them? Did they say where they were from?" Lord Shingen asked. James shook his head. He couldn't remember anything except running into the store and stabbing everyone.

"I can't say I noticed anything in particular." James replied. Lord Shingen looked towards Mariko.

"Was anything said to you?" he asked. The beautiful woman shook her head.

"No, Father. All they told me was that they were delivering a message to you." Mariko replied. Lord Shingen rubbed his beard and paced the floor and every now and then, he'd look at James. James' eyes followed him as he appeared to be completely lost in his thoughts. Finally, Lord Shingen stopped and turned to face James.

"You say you defeated all four of those men, but how well do you fight?" he asked.

"Well enough." James said. Lord Shingen smirked and beckoned a few men to come forward. As they did, Lord Shingen backed away.

"Show me, Howlett-san." he said. As soon as their lord had finished his sentence, the men charged James. They were all unarmed, indicating that this was a hand-to-hand trial. But James was far from prepared. The men circled him and attacked in rhythm with kicks and punches and broke up the rhythm to catch James off guard. James managed to block some of the hits, but most landed and the ones that did hurt and angered him. However, James tried to keep himself calm. There was no way he'd impress Mariko's father if he lost himself and killed everyone he saw. The barrage of kicks and punches continued and as the fighting went on, James found himself managing a bit better. A stray kick or punch would hit him but the countless times he had endured being shot and stabbed during war had prepared him. Nothing that was thrown at him knocked him down and finally, the barrage stopped coming.

Without a word from Lord Shingen, the men then drew _bokken_ and encircled James. Now it was the weapon test. A _bokken _was thrown at James and he caught it. He mimicked the stance that he had saw Keniuchio take and waved the wooden sword around as he waited for the men to attack. With a swing, a man disarmed James. In the crowd, James heard laughter and he looked. James snorted and cracked his neck.

"Fuck this." he muttered to himself as he unsheathed his claws. The laughter turned to gasps of both amazement and horror. James' opponents all froze and looked over towards Lord Shingen. Mariko's father stood from his seat yet said nothing. With no cue from Lord Shingen, James' opponents proceeded with their planned attack. This time, James fared much better than he had before. As soon as their _bokken_ hit his claws, the wood broke and fell to the ground. Disarmed, James' attackers acknowledged that they were defeated. James grinned like a wolf and looked around. Everyone looked horrified. Suddenly self conscious, James sheathed his claws. Lord Shingen looked down at him and gulped.

"Your claws...you were affected by the bomb?" Lord Shingen asked. James paused and shuddered as he remembered the bombing of Hiroshima nine years ago. The bombing he had failed to stop. James flashed back into reality and sighed.

"No. I've had these for a hell of a lot longer." James said finally. James waited for Lord Shingen to speak again but he said nothing and nodded. Everyone around James was afraid. He could smell it. The only one who's face was torn from fear was Mariko. James glanced back at her and her soft smile gave him comfort and security in the room. Once again, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. Lord Shingen's voice interrupted their gaze.

"Howlett-san," he said as he approached James from his high seated throne. "I am truly indebted to you for saving Mariko." he bowed and then turned to address the members of his family in the room. "It appears that a rival family made an attempt on the life of my daughter. I do not know who they are...but until I am sure of Mariko's safety, she will not go anywhere without a bodyguard with her." Lord Shingen then turned fractionally to James. "Howlett-san will be her personal bodyguard." The room was hushed. To James, the silence was worse than any comment or jeer that could've been said. James was relieved when Keniuchio stepped forward. Instead of speaking angrily or loudly, he bowed to his father, Lord Shingen, before he talked.

"Please forgive me, Lord Shingen...but why should a _gaijin _be allowed to guard Mariko?" Keniuchio said. His tone was respectful and calm, yet challenging. Lord Shingen sighed.

"It is the duty of all members of our family to guard and watch over each other. To have one of you around her at all times would seem suspicious. I'd want my best to blend in with the rest of the crowd and watch. If anything gets past you, Howlett-san has already proven that he is willing to risk his own life to save another." Lord Shingen said. Keniuchio's nostrils flared in anger, but he said nothing more. He merely bowed quickly and stepped backwards. Lord Shingen then looked over to James. "Do you have anything to say?" James was stunned. Memories flashed in his head. Rose's dead body in their cabin in 1865. Silver Fox decapitated by his own claws. Women he had loved. James looked over at Mariko and saw the beautiful woman that he had fallen in love with at first sight. Could he bare to risk her life?

"I-I can't..." James said. "I'm a failure. People that have fallen under my protection before have ended up dead. I apologize, Lord Shingen. But I must refuse." James bowed, more proficient this time. But his bow nor his words were received.

"You can not refuse." Lord Shingen said. James' eyes shot up.

"But I-"

"No...you can_ not _and will _not _refuse me. Have you no honor, Howlett-san?" Lord Shingen said, his voice rising. "Whatever failures you may have encountered in the past, there are in the past. _Ame futte chi katamaru._" James shook his head, confused.

"What?" he said.

"After the rain, the earth hardens. The adversity we face in life serves to build up our character. That is the meaning of the proverb. You will find strength from growing from your past, Howlett-san, not wallowing in inglorious self-pity. There is no honor in that." Lord Shingen said. James nodded as he listened to the sage-like words of Lord Shingen. Despite his appearance as a yakuza boss, Lord Shingen was wiser than James had expected. James had lived a long life full of pain and heartbreak...perhaps now, fate was allowing him a chance to prove what he had learned. To have peace. Taking this bodyguard job would be the most peaceful work James had ever done.

Lord Shingen placed a hand on James' shoulder. "And do not worry about being paid. As long as Mariko stays safe and alive, you will be greatly rewarded. Now, I have appealed to your sensibilities, Howlett-san? Will you do this willingly?" Lord Shingen said. James glanced over at Mariko and then back to her father.

"Of course." James replied. Lord Shingen clasped his hands and smiled.

"Then it is settled. Howlett-san, welcome to the Yashida clan." Lord Shingen said as he clapped and waved the members of his family towards him. Unlike before when they were silent, the members of the Yashida family were very vocal in welcoming James. James couldn't help but smile a bit as he was greeted by everyone. Mariko smiled from afar off as she headed back to clean up from her ordeal earlier. Everyone was smiling and welcoming James, the foreigner, into their ranks. Everyone except Keniuchio. The young man glared from a corner. The hate in his eyes reminded James eerily of Dog. And in the back of his head, James hoped that they would never have to clash as he and his tormentor had.

* * *

><p><strong>June 1956, Yashida Family Estate, Fukuoka, Japan<strong>

When the sun rose into the sky and the chirping of the birds outside his window woke him, James rose from his sleep and proceeded to follow the same morning routine he had for the last two years of his life. After wiping the sleep from his eyes, he'd exercise and meditate for a few hours, practicing the martial arts moves he had learned. Then James showered and bathed, more than he had ever done in his life. He scrubbed himself until the scents of the day before were gone. When all of this was done, James assumed the garb of Mariko's personal bodyguard; all black suit, shirt, tie, belt and shoes. Once fully dressed, James left his room and met Mariko in the hallway. After that, James never knew. Whether it was shopping or sightseeing, Mariko always had something planned for when they went out. And whether James liked the activity or not, he found himself growing closer to woman everyday. Over the past two years, the love James had for Mariko had grown stronger and the affection she showed had exceeded his expectations. Mariko taught him new things everyday and had expanded James' mind. If learning new things put a smile on Mariko's face, James happily did it. She had showed him the value of meditation and had taught him how to control his breathing to remain calm. And with the clarity of his mind, James had found that he grown smarter as well.

Now, James met Mariko in the hall and bowed with a smile. "Mariko-sama." he said graciously. Mariko bowed as well.

"James-san." she replied. James straightened his tie and cleared his throat.

"So, my lady...where are we headed today?" James asked. The two of them walked side by side through _shoji _doors and out onto the flowery expanse that marked the entrance to the estate. It was a abnormally hot day and the scents came to James' nose in a barrage. It was a little overwhelming. Mariko smiled brightly and walked away.

"Just for a stroll, I'm afraid. Perhaps we'll go to the marketplace. How does that sound?" she said. James chuckled and shrugged.

"I'm following you, beautiful." he said. James and Mariko walked across town, taking in the sights and smells. Mariko greeted a group of children as they ran by smiling and giggling. For a brief moment, James saw a glimmer of longing in her eyes as the children ran to their parents. James caught her glance and Mariko gave him a polite smile before she looked forward as she walked.

James subtly sniffed the air. Three members of the Yashida family were hidden somewhere in the roaring crowd. If James care enough to locate them, he could have, but their presence reassured him. There hadn't been a single attack on anything that the Yashida family owned in the last two years and everyone seemed to be content enough...except Keniuchio. The man never seemed to be in a pleasant mood, especially not now since his father had fallen ill.

"How is Lord Shingen doing?" James asked as he and Mariko sat on a bench in front of a water display. Mariko's head dropped and the salty scent of tears hit James' nose.

"He is growing weaker. This sickness is so...sudden. No doctor has been able to diagnose or treat him. I'm afraid he'll be dead soon." Mariko said. In an attempt to console her, James took a chance and pulled Mariko over towards him in an embrace. She didn't struggle. She actually seemed to welcome his touch and leaned against his chest. After a few moments sitting together and enduring the mystified glances of passersby, the two separated and sat awkwardly. Even though they were in a crowded and busy quad, James couldn't help but notice the silence between them and finally spoke up.

"H-how's Keniuchio taking it?" he asked. Mariko shook her head.

"My brother has always been distant and cold, but especially after you saved me. But with father on his deathbed, Keniuchio has been so numb. It's like he doesn't even care..." Mariko covered her mouth and cried a little more. "Forgive me, James-san. I shouldn't speak of Keniuchio like that. I know my brother is suffering like the rest of us." Mariko said. James nodded his understanding. He looked around, knowing that members of the Yashida clan could be anywhere in the crowd. Ever since Lord Shingen had fallen ill, Keniuchio had taken control of assigning the secret guards to blend into the crowd. James had noticed that the number of crowd blenders had dropped considerably since Keniuchio started assigning them and all of them had to be close allies of his. Surely, Mariko's words could be taken as a form of treason or a plot and any of Keniuchio's snitches could report it.

However, James had noticed that Keniuchio had been acting extremely secretive as of late. James had smelled strange scents around the Yashida estate but eventually they either faded or blended in with the rest of the house. The Yashida had gained new members through initiation and James had thought that those were the scents he had smelled. But some of the scents he had smelled around the house had also been present when he and Mariko had gone out. James didn't know what was happening, but his mistrust and dislike of Keniuchio grew everyday.

"Oh, James, look!" Mariko said as she pointed across the square. James followed her fingers and saw a kimono shop, newly opened.

Mariko hopped to her feet and turned, smiling brightly at James. "Come on! Let us see if we can find something for you." Mariko said. James grumbled under his breath. He'd never be caught dead wearing anything that looked like that. Literally. Despite his grumbling and complaining, Mariko pulled James inside the shop and the gruff man couldn't do anything to refuse. Mariko immediately went around searching for men's kimonos while James watched her. Her excitement brought a smile to his face, revealing his sharp, elongated canine teeth. Mariko rushed around showing James different kimonos that James would gently deny. The fact that she continued amused James the most. He could watch her go on for hours. Mariko looked at him and then past his shoulder.

"Having fun, lovebirds?" a voice said in Japanese. James saw Mariko's face twist in horror and before James could turn around to see what happened, he heard the sound of gun firing. He felt the floor next. James saw a piece of his brain in front of his eyes as well as a pool of his own blood forming in front of his eyes. James' hearing had been blown out and as he lay on the floor, all he could do was watch. Men rushed forward and snatched Mariko into their arms. Mariko's mouth was open as tears poured from her eyes. She clawed at her captives and reached out for James' still body. Desperately, James wanted for reach for her and defend her from her attackers, but right now, he couldn't. Mariko was snatched away from field of vision and taken out of the store. Inside, James roared and fought, willing himself to heal faster, but his body refused him. It took its time.

James couldn't count the minutes he laid on the floor, but every second that ticked away felt an eternity. When he finally did take his first breath as a renewed man, it came out as vicious roar. The store owner yelped in fear and the people that had gathered around leapt back as James stumbled to his feet. Wobbling, James stepped outside and sniffed, more like a wild dog than he normally would have. His vision was clouded and blurred. His motor skills still hadn't returned fully, but James was adamant on finding out where Mariko went. Finally, James picked up her scent. And he ran.

James didn't how far or fast he ran, but he pushed his body to the limit, his body's ability to heal keeping his lungs from bursting and his heart from failing. James nose and feet carried him well outside of Fukuoka and into the forest as he followed the dirt path that Mariko had been taken up. After years of keeping his animalistic tendencies in check, James instincts had been loosened. He was a predator now, tracking his stolen mate. Now, he was more than just James Howlett. In this forest now, his blood still dried on his forehead and his adrenaline rushing, James was definitely a wolverine.

James spotted a small wooden cabin in the midst of the trees with a battered truck parked next to it. James could smell Mariko's fear scent all over. It made him angry. James crept closer, silently and listened. He heard talking inside and paid attention.

"What're we waiting for? Let's just shoot this bitch." one man crowed inside.

"No." a smoother voice said. "We've got orders." Another voice scoffed.

"From another fucking syndicate head? When we start taking orders from Yashida?" he said. James snarled as the silky voice spoke again.

"Since Keniuchio needed extra muscle." he said. James unsheathed his claws in a rage and rushed forward. Keniuchio had ordered this? What else had he done? As James slammed himself through the door, he was determined to find out. The man with the silky voice was the first to say anything. Although his yell sounded different, James' ears recognized him easily. He was the one that had to remain alive. The other two were fair game. The two men fumbled for guns their hands would never find. James sliced around the room, carefully picking his shots. He didn't want a repeat of the incident in America. An arm thumped to the floor, followed by a bloody, disemboweled body. The man with the silky voice circled the room, searching for a weapon while his remaining partner dove for Mariko to use her as a shield. He was too slow. James pounced onto his back like a cat and his claws pierced through his ribs. The man cried out in pain and James rose up, leaving him to writhe as the blood pumped out of his body.

James then turned to face the man with the silky voice. He looked like he saw an ancient spirit.

"I-I killed you. Blew your brains out!" he said as he backed into the corner of the cabin. James paused and listened. He heard Mariko breathing softly and he heart slowly beating like she had been knocked unconscious. James sniffed and didn't smell anything abnormal besides the blood of the men in the room. Everything was fine. James then walked forward.

"Keniuchio hired you?" he asked. The man with the silky voice shook his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he said. James sighed. Mariko being alive had calmed him but his patience had sunk to the very bottom of its reserves. James' claws slammed through the man's pelvis. His shrill cry rang in James' ears.

"I don't have time for this. I need answers and I need you to talk now. Every second you bite your tongue, I separate your bottom half from the rest of your body, tendon by tendon. Now..._start talking_." James growled. He pulled with claws and the man screamed out. As soon as he realized that James wasn't joking, the poor bastard became a chatterbox.

"I'm Dai-Kumo! Kenuichio contacted me with a job a couple weeks ago. He wanted us to kidnap and hold his sister for ransom so he could draw the rest of the family away. He didn't say for what! He just said his father was sick and needed to be 'taken care of'." Dai-Kumo screamed. James couldn't check his rage. Many questions burned in his head.

"Did Keniuchio tell you anything about his father's sickness?" he growled. Dai-Kumo's eyes flickered back and forth and James pulled with his claws. Dai-Kumo yelped.

"I asked him how sick his father was and he said, um...he was bitten by The Beast." he said quickly. James snarled. The Beast? Was Keniuchio inferring that James had poisoned Lord Shingen?

"Did he mention a _gaijin_ when he said that?" James growled. Before Dai-Kumo could answer, James heard a soft moan. It was Mariko.

"No..." she said. "Keniuchio didn't summon _them_..." James looked at her and then back at Dai-Kumo. The man's eyes were as wide with shock as they were pain.

"The Hand..." he said, quietly. James frowned and turned towards Mariko. Wide awake now, Mariko walked over towards James. She had a bruise on her head from where one of the men must have hit her to knock her out. Her hands grabbed for James and she squeezed him tightly in a hug. She breathed into his ear and James hugged her with one arm. Dai-Kumo tried to keep from crying. Finally, James and Mariko stood up together and Dai-Kumo gripped his pelvis as blood spouted. Mariko looked James in the eye and began to cry.

"James, we have to get back to the estate. If Kenicuhio has summoned the Hand, it means he intends to kill my father!" she cried out. James nodded and frowned. He grabbed Mariko by the hand, but Dai-Kumo grabbed at his ankle.

"Please...help me." Dai-Kumo said. James growled and looked over at Mariko. Her usually soft and loving face was twisted with contempt. That was all James needed to know. Dai-Kumo had been the one to hit her. James pressed his fist to Dai-Kumo's chest and unsheathed his claws. He felt the man's beating heart stop and slowly pulled his claws from his chest. No one would hurt Mariko. No one.

James and Mariko ran to get inside of the kidnapper's truck and James drove Mariko to the Fukuoka Airport. Mariko only needed to be seen for the guards to take her in and do whatever she asked. Her last name granted her that kind of power. For the moment, James felt that Mariko was safe. His score was with Keniuchio and when he finally pulled up to the Yashida Estate, he was more than prepared to confront him. James felt the stale scents of Yashida clan members. From the tracks in the ground, Keniuchio must've told them that Mariko had been kidnapped and sent them out to search for her. This left him alone with Lord Shingen. James inhaled and then exhaled as he entered the mansion.

James sensed the blades before they even came towards and rolled to his right as he entered the room. James unsheathed his claws and roared as a small group of ninja, garbed in black with red highlights descended from the balcony with swords in their hand. James had learned not to try and block katana strikes with his claws so he braced himself to take sword strikes. And he did. These swordsmen were light years ahead of any of the Yashida guards. With every swing they took, they found their mark and James thanked whatever horrific deity that had cursed him with his abilities that he had them. Pools of James' blood spilled out on the floor and James was dazed and confused. He began to panic and that panic gave him adrenaline. That adrenaline fed his berserker rage, but a more subdued and conscious version of it. Instead of becoming a mindless monster, James simply focused like Mariko had taught him. He blocked out the pain of every stab and slash and focused on fighting. Every sense was honed and James felt the power within him focus. The rest was easy.

His assailants began to drop and their blood piled on top of James' on the ground. They were all resilient, enduring slashes and stabs that James dealt out, but in the end, they were only human. James, however, was in his element. He could do this all day if he had to but he didn't have the patience or the time. The last oddly dressed attacker ran towards James, flailing his sword and James leapt forward with a roar. The assailant's sword stabbed through James' abdomen but James' strike was a fatal slash to the jugular. James heard the gurgling noise as the man coughed and spat up his own blood. James stood up and withdrew the sword from his stomach. After allowing himself a few seconds to heal, James took the sword and made his way up the steps.

James could smell Keniuchio's smug stench and growled to himself as he followed it back towards Lord Shingen's chambers. With a swing, James sliced through the _shoji _door and kicked his way through. James stared in horror as Keniuchio, garbed in some sort of silver-accented samurai armor, stood over Lord Shingen, removing a sword from his father's ribs. James saw three bloody gouges in the old man's side and he could tell he was dead. Had it taken three strikes to kill him? Keniuchio turned around and smiled.

"The _gaijin _fancies himself a samurai now, hmm?" he said. James snarled.

"Why?" he asked. Keniuchio laughed and began to pace around the room, as if drunk off his scheme.

"Why? Did I have Mariko captured? I'm sure Dai-Kumo told you what I told him. As you can see, the house is empty. All except for you, me and my now murdered father." the young man had the expression of a man full of arrogance. "As for killing this sad old fool, the answer is more of a mystery." James bore his teeth.

"You killed your own father for a position as leader of your clan!" he spat. Keniuchio smiled.

"I killed Lord Shingen, my own father...or you killed him after you hired people to kidnap Mariko?" he said. James opened his mouth and then closed it. The thre holes in Lord Shingen's side, perfectly spaced to look like James' claws, drawing the clan away, having the now slain guards at the door. This fucker...

Smiling at James' realization, Keniuchio continued. "Lord Shingen had never intended to let me take control of the clan. He wanted to give it to Mariko to lead but only after she had found a suitable husband. Although I was Mariko's elder, I was not a legitimate son of Lord Shingen. I am a mere failure of his youth. So, I hired some men to kill her in a store...then you showed up and wanted to be a hero. For two years afterwards, I waited and amassed a private fortune to hire Dai-Kumo and his degenerates to kidnap her and to summon The Hand. The Hand poisoned my father with a slow working fungal poison a few months ago." Keniuchio said. James stared at him, confused. He had told him the entire story...

"Why are you telling me this?" James asked, searching Keniuchio's snake-like face. Keniuchio grinned widely and turned away from James. Quickly, he spun around unsheathing his sword and catching James off-guard across the chest. James winced as the wound sizzled and burned and for the first time, James felt true pain. His blood leaked on the floor and he clutched his chest as he backed away and fell through the torn _shoji _door before falling from the balcony. James slipped on the blood of the fallen guards and breathed quickly as he chest burned with pain. He heard Keniuchio land behind him and his sword swirl in the air.

"I am not a fool, Howlett-chan." Keniuchio said with an arrogant sneer. "I have watched you fight. I have learned about your mutant ability to heal. So, I had the Hand craft me something especially for you. A blade like none other. A reinforced steel blade, slightly curved like an ancient _tachi_, but physically, quite unspectacular. The key is in the edge. It's lined with carbonadium, a radioactive chemical and metal mixture with an acidity high enough to completely negate your healing, _gaijin_. Some would call this a beautiful work of science but this goes far deeper. I am the great swordsmith Muramasa striking down the monstrous Beast with his greatest creation!" Keniuchio laughed as he raised his sword up to strike James down.

James looked up at Keniuchio and growled.

"You talk too fucking much!" he roared as he swung his katana upwards to block Keniuchio's sword, the Muramasa Blade. Keniuchio hopped backwards and then rushed forward, swinging his sword in wide arcs to keep James in front of him. James' chest still bled from the sword strike Keniuchio had delivered earlier and it burned. The carbonadium was chewing through his flesh faster than his healing could kick in. James was losing blood and weakening. If he couldn't keep up the pace, Keniuchio would catch him slipping up on some level.

The two men traded sword strikes throughout the front of the house. Keniuchio drew James forward and dodged and before James could turn around and block, he felt the Muramasa Blade slide down his back. He yelled out in pain as he fell down to his knees from the pain. Keniuchio stood behind James and raised the sword above his head.

"I told you, Beast. I am the great Muramasa! I am a warrior! I-" James' claws dug into Keniuchio's abdomen and then he rose to his feet and shoved the katana into his chest. Keniuchio choked on his blood and dropped the Muramasa Blade to the ground. James pushed and backed him into the far right wall and stared Keniuchio in the eyes. Nostrils flaring, James growled and spat.

"And I told _you_...you talk too fucking much." James said as he ripped his claws downward, breaking through Keniucho's armor and spilling his organs in front of his feet. Keniuchio fell flat onto the ground and James sat down in front of him as he bled. The slash on his back was burning deeply but the scrape on his chest was just beginning to close. James sat and raised his head to the roof of the mansion and then looked around. This once beautiful estate was now littered with bodies, its former owner murdered by his own illegitimate son, who now laid at James' feet. If the clan arrived now, they'd turn on James in a second and attempt to kill him. With Lord Shingen and Keniuchio dead, James could never guarantee Mariko's safety here. Not the woman who loved this _gaijin _who slaughtered the Yashida leadership. They would hunt them both if they suspected. James had only one option, now. Taking up the Muramasa Blade and its sheathe, James closed the doors to the estate and limped to the truck. He would drive to the airport, go inside and he and Mariko would fly away from here. James had only one destination in mind.

He and Mariko were fleeing to Canada.


	8. Ruined Return

**_"That's the other thing about **comin' home**...it usually reminds you why you wanted to **leave** in the first place."_**

**_- _Wolverine (Earth-616)**

* * *

><p><strong>January 1962, Ontario, Canada<strong>

James slept soundly in bed with his love and wife wrapped in his arms. After fleeing from Japan and the wrath of the Yashida, James and Mariko had married and settled down in a large house, a little closer to society than James had initially wanted, but he could never refuse his love. Mariko was fearful that assassins would be sent to find and kill her and kill James if they could. James shared in her fears, especially now since the two of them were no longer alone. A loud wail erupted from the corner of the Howlett's room and James' ears immediately picked up on it. Mariko shifted but James patted her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"I got it, sweetheart. Little tyke's probably just hungry." James said as he rolled out of bed and stretched his tight muscles. He walked over to the wooden crib and scooped the wailing baby, a boy, out and into his arms. The child was loud and thrashing his arms and legs in anger. James smirked. "Alright, alright. Jeez, I'm getting your bottle." James said. His son continued to cry until the nipple touched his lips and he ravenously devoured his bottle.

James looked down with a faint smile as his child finally finished and settled down. James propped the baby up in his arms and patted his back until he heard the small burp that notified him that his feeding duties were done. When John Howlett III shat in his cloth diaper, it would be his mother's turn to change him. The smell had been nauseating the first time James had dared to take a figurative stab at changing diapers.

Little John breathed softly as he dug his fingers into James' skin and laid his head on his father's chest. James smiled with indescribable pride at the small bundle of flesh he held in his arms. Something about holding his own offspring in his arms made him feel complete, even human. It was a feeling he had never felt before. James walked around the beauty of a house that his wife had bought, admiring the slight touches of Japanese architecture around it. He gently rocked his son in his arms and grinned as the baby yawned and snuggled into his hairy pectorals further. James walked into the living room and sat on his favorite couch and smiled. He was married to his Japanese love, Mariko and had been for five years and together, they had bore a child. For James, this felt like some sort of dream. A dream that had eluded him for the entirety of his life. And now, he was alive within it. He felt good.

James walked back to his bedroom and laid his son back into his crib. After stretching, he walked over to his wife as she stirred and looked over at him. James' wolfish grin spread across his face as he kissed Mariko.

"Well, hello beautiful." he said in a gravelly tone that made his wife's scent change. Mariko licked her lips and leaned forward to kiss James again, running her hands down his mutton chop sideburns. From there, her hands went down to his chest before slinking to James' waste. By then, James was already on top of her, kissing on her, every moan and shudder driving him further forward.

The next hour until the sun began to climb over the trees were filled with soft moans and pleasure. James' healing factor kept fatigue away from him, a perk he knew that Mariko had enjoyed the last five years. Now, she laid curled back up in the sheets of their bed and James made his way to the shower. If he wanted to make a good profit, he would have to start his day and soon.

James was a hunter and made his profit handling man-eaters and hunting sizable specimens for cash. He didn't particularly enjoy this line of work, but it made him the most money and it allowed him to release his animalistic instincts away from his wife and child. Mariko was as understanding as she could be, but she was more fiercely protective of their than James was, which was definitely saying something.

The forest was heavy with the scents of animals. In the distance, James could smell buried deer carcasses and territory markers from various species, often overlapping with each other. He could hear the calls of eagles overhead and elk down below in the valley. James wasn't concerned about eagles in the sky or elk grazing near the stream. He was tracking something much more dangerous.

James had heard the reports passing through the bars about some rogue bear in the forests just north of his house. In the last week, eight men, three women and a child had been killed. When they're bodies had been recovered, it was almost a no-brainer that a bear had done it. The price for the bear's head and pelt had been set for 3,000 loonies. When James had received word, he already started making plans for what he was going to do with the money. In James' mind, the bear was as good as skinned.

The hirsute man had tracked the bear's scent from the corpses and up into the trees, finding markers on the trunks and shit in the bushes. From their stench, they were all fresh. James continued padding through the woods and finally found something that surprised him. It was a puddle of blood and it wasn't human. It belonged to the bear he was tracking. What had happened to it? Could it have been shot? While James pondered on these questions, he heard the rustling of leaves followed by a grunt and growl.

The bear burst from the thicket with his mouth open, his canines shining in the dappled light. Before James could unsheathe his claws, the bear had struck him three times. His forepaws slashed open James' stomach while his jaws grabbed around James' throat. The bear shook his head violently and James dangled from his mouth like a rag doll. James could hear his neck bones starting to crack and could taste blood rushing into his mouth. He felt like death would be closing in on him shortly.

But he had no intention to die today.

The motions were quick and easy. James unsheathed his claws and dug them into the closest body part he could find on the bear. He stabbed one of its front legs and the animal yelped and loosened his grip on James' neck. James then planted his feet and raised his head, roaring as his claws criss-crossed through the bear's neck.

The animal's head tumbled over James' shoulders, landing against a rock a little further down the incline. James glanced down at it. He would collect it later. The wounds he had received healed before he could even remember he had been struck. James circled the bear's decapitated carcass in front of him, searching for only one thing. Whatever wound the bear had received.

It didn't take him long. The scar was very distinctive, four long claw marks down the bear's flanks and belly. The same as the markers on the tree. James frowned. He had thought they had belonged to this bear he was tracking. It's scent was all over the place. James had never missed or mixed a scent he was tracking. There was no way he could've confused this bear for something else? Was it?

James shook his head clear and grabbed the bear's head as he descended down the hill. Whoever wanted this bear dead would have to settle for the head. If they wanted the skin, they could climb their asses up the hill to get it. James found it much easier to find his way into the small town near his house than he did to track the bear. He arrived and made his way to the sheriff's office. The older man looked up at him and gawked at the giant bear's head. James gave him a wolfish grin and the sheriff gave him his full 3000 loonie reward.

After that little piece of business had been settled, James stretched and headed to the local bar for some cool down before he headed home. James sat at the stool and waved for the bartender.

"Your finest whiskey." he said with a smile. The smell of the drink entered his nose and James watched it thirstily as the bartender prepared his drink. As the cool liquid slid down his throat, James heard the doors to the bar swing open and pair of shoes clicking as they entered. James sat the glass down and could feel the present of someone near him.

"Are you James Howlett?" a man asked from behind him. James didn't turned his head. With a quick sniff, he could tell that the man was alone.

"Who the hell are you?" James growled. The man chuckled.

"No need to be rude, Mr. Howlett. I've just come to talk to you." the man approached and pulled up a chair next to James. James quickly sized the man up. He was young with shaggy black hair and faint hint of peach fuzz just beginning to form. James didn't like his smell or his snobbish grin.

"What is there to talk about? Do I know you?" James asked.

"No, Mr. Howlett, but we know a lot about you." the man responded. James dropped money on the counter, another drink was prepared and when it was put in front of him, James downed the glass. He then sniffed.

"We?"

"My organization. Department K."

"Never heard of it." James replied curtly. The man simply smiled.

"Naturally. You see, we're doing examinations of sorts for a project that we're putting together and I think you would make a wonderful addition." James shook his head.

"Not interested." he replied. To his chagrin, the man continued to press his point and James' patience.

"You have to understand something, Mr. Howeltt. We are in the midst of a cold war. Every effort made by the citizens of our country would help ensure the safety of our people." the man said. James sighed and licked his lips.

"Look, bub, I understand you may have good intentions, but right now, you're pissing me off. Don't do that. Just walk away. I'm not interested." James said, calmly but sternly before waving the bartender over again for another glass. The man next to him nodded his head and chuckled softly.

"I was trying to do this as peacefully as possible, Mr. Howlett. But, you're forcing my hand." the man said. James whirled around in his seat and grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him into the air and stared him down. Slowly, his claws popped from between his knuckles. James' nostrils flared.

"I'm going to tell you this only once..._fuck off_. If I see you or smell you around here again, I will snatch your heart through your fuckin' nose. Am I crystal clear to you?" James growled. The other man barely even gulped. He just smiled. An eerie face that James had seen on killers before.

"Are you sure this is the course of action you're willing to take, Mr. Howlett?" the man said. James shoved the man backwards, sending him collapsing amongst the tables. Drinks spilled on top of him and James stifled a snicker. The man from Department K rose from the floor and glanced down at his ruined, liquor-soaked clothes and then looked back up at James. The smile was still there.

"I'll be seeing you later, Mr. Howlett." the man said with a slight dip of his head. After that gesture, the man was gone. James scanned the area for the man with all of his senses, but every trace of the man was gone. James scowled and downed his glass. He wished that the alcohol would circulate through his blood and at least get him in a good mood before he went home. But something felt off to him. Something about the man's words and his smile was setting off all of James' internal alarms. He needed to get back home to Mariko and Little John.

James felt his body push him towards his house. Adrenaline gave him extra strength as he raced through the woods, pushing through the snow up the hill. James felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and the way that he smelled was causing him to become nauseous. It was fear.

James burst through his front door and looked around quickly for his family.

"Mariko!" he called, his voice echoing through the house. James didn't hear a reply. James started panting wildly has mind raced. "Mariko!" James roared again, much more urgently. James' teeth ground together and he opened his mouth to yell again. "MARIKO!" This time, he received an answer...but not the one he wanted.

"Your pretty little Japanese princess isn't here, Jimmy." a voice growled. James froze in place, his eyes widening as he stared into the large glass window at the back of his house near the kitchen. In the reflection, James saw himself and a phantom from his past. When James finally had the stomach to turn around, he nearly threw up when he did. The man stood in the doorway with snow still stuck to his black leather jacket, pants and combat boots. He flexed his fingers, talons pointed at the end of the tips. His dirty blonde hair was shaggy and unkempt but there was no denying who he was.

Dog Logan.

James could only stare with his mouth open and his fists balled. A cocktail of anger and confusion mixed inside of him. There were no words to express what he felt. As if reading this, his long lost brother grinned and spoke.

"Surprised to see me? Surprised that you didn't smell me coming?" Dog asked. He walked forward and shook his hair of snow like his namesake. "It's actually pretty funny, ya know? I didn't come here unannounced. I, uh, heralded my arrival. The marks on the trees. The injured bear. The twelve poor fuckers in the forests, mauled but not eaten..." James' brain finally started to turn back on.

"B-but...I didn't sm..."

"Of course you didn't smell me. We share abilities, Jimmy. I know how to navigate my way around your senses. I've spent the last few decades honing my power, learning things about myself." Dog growled with a smirk. His talons lengthened at the tips, becoming hooked claws the length of a bear. James seethed. His fear gave way to an icy hot rage. His time in Japan had allowed him to learn to adopt a savage serenity, but he felt those lessons slipping away. Only one question registered in his mind.

"Where the hell is Mariko and my son?" James growled. Dog smiled.

"Now, now, little brother...first things first. We have an unsettled score. Last time I saw you, I decimated a backwater injun tribe out in the middle of fuck knows where and you managed to gut me and decapitate me, save a few strands of skin. That means we're tied, Jimmy." Dog said as he began to stalk towards James.

James knew that talking to Dog was beyond his ability. Despite his shock at seeing him at his front door after decades of being free from his presence, James had no choice but to fight and hurt Dog until he figured out where his family was. There was no other option. At least Dog would refuse to present him with one.

James wasted absolutely no time. With his claws drawn, he glided across the floor. Dog roared as he approached but James remained silent. His claws slashed through Dog's chest and his thigh. Blood spurted to the ground, but the wounds healed immediately. Dog lunged forward with an open palm and gripped James' face and dug his claws into his skull. With his grip secured, Dog lifted James over his head and slammed him down onto the floor. After five collisions with the ground, James grew angry. He forced the fire of his bestial rage to cool. He refused to lose his composure. That didn't mean he wouldn't fight.

James stabbed his claws into Dog's thigh and slid them upward towards his brother's groin. Dog howled and let James go. When James' feet hit the ground, he went on the offensive. Dog was delirious and a sitting duck now. The groin laceration would take a little longer to heal and it left James just enough time to open Dog up from his navel to his chin.

Dog's intestines spilled to the ground and the dirty blonde savage fell next to them, grabbing them up in a panic to push them back inside of his body. James stared down at Dog and growled. If the two kept going like this, there'd be no winner. James didn't have time to play with his brother. He needed to end him...and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

While Dog healed from his wounds, James ran upstairs into his room. Under his bed, his secret weapon was sheathed. James grabbed it and the blade sang with joy as it left it's scabbard. James whirled around and Dog limped in front of the door. He stared at James and then the sword in his hand. "And what do you plan on doing with that?" Dog laughed.

"First..." James said as he lunged forward, the Muramasa Blade slashing Dog's cheek. Dog smiled as he waited to heal, but the gash continued to bleed as the blood traveled down to his mouth. Dog stared forward and James saw the boy Dog had once been, afraid to stay out too long at his estate and scared of his drunkard father. James grinned. He saw the fear.

"I'll give you one warning. Tell me where my family is or I will keep cutting you until there isn't a damn thing for you to regenerate from. You won't heal anyway...but I'll make sure just in case. Talk, or I'll finish where I started." James said, pointing the Blade at Dog's groin. Dog gave James a defiant and knowing look.

"_Fuck you_." Dog spat blood into James' face.

Whatever held his anger back now was gone. The fire burned and James reacted. The Blade slashed Dog's chest open and James' kick sent him flying into the kitchen. Pots flew into the air and the table split in two. James leapt down to meet him. Dog swung his talons wildly, more out of desperation than a desire to fight now. He was losing blood and James was losing patience. James' blade stroke took the shape of a half-moon and Dog's left hand flew into the air. Dog spat and James grabbed him by his ripped jacket and shoved him onto the window.

"Where. Are. They?!' he shouted. Dog didn't answer fast enough. James lost whatever was holding his rage in and with a powerful front kick, he sent Dog crashing through the glass window in his kitchen and leapt after him. The dirty blonde man tumbled down into the snow, his blood painting the cold, pure white a hot, steamy crimson. James treaded through the snow towards Dog and pressed the Blade to his throat. The carbonadium acid tip had already begun to eat away at his flesh.

Dog glared up at James, his fear now replaced with the purest hatred. Throughout their lives together, Dog had always plagued James either in his life or in his dreams. Now, James had the opportunity to end the nightmare. And he would, but not before he found out what had happened to his family. The swirl of the wind whistled in James' ears and brought new scents to him...as well as several familiar ones.

"Whoa, whoa, Mr. Howlett." the man from Department K yelled over the rushing wind. James' eyes turned to him and he stared. James heard the wailing of his son and his wife screaming in Japanese at the men that held her. James pushed the tip of the Blade further into Dog's throat and the man from Department K spoke up again. "Mr. Howlett! Don't push any further." he waved to his men.

Little John was thrown crying into his mother's arms and she was in turn pushed to the snowy ground. Mariko cradled the boy and James stepped forward. All of the men's rifles pointed to his wife and son. James froze.

"Look, James...this is how things are going to go. You and your family will come with us. So long as you cooperate, they'll stay alive." the man from Department K said. In this moment, everything temporarily slowed for James. There were ten armed men holding his family at gunpoint. Judging from the distance between them, there was no way James could even attempt to save them without both he and his family being gunned down. Dog's hand gripped at James shin and James looked down at him. The man that had preyed on him for most of his adult life. James held the power to take his head off and be done with him...but at what cost? His family would most definitely be killed and he'd be left with nothing.

There was no choice.

James moved the Blade from Dog's neck and threw it to the ground. He looked to his wife, who laid in the snow with tears pouring from her face.

"James, no!" she cried. James averted his eyes and shook his head. The soldiers surrounding him and his family, grabbing his wife and child up. Dog rose to his feet beside James and grinned in his face. He spat blood contemptuously in James' face and before James could react, Dog drove his fist in James' face and the world for him went black.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic United States, 1962<strong>

James heard noises around him. He tried to move his body, but he felt restrained. James felt covered in liquid and he breathed, he felt something squeeze his mouth and chin. James thrashed around and his eyes burst open. There was glass in front of his face. James tried to scream, only for his cries to go unheard and bubbles to rise into his face, blocking his vision. After the bubbles had cleared, James grit his teeth at the sight of the Department K man standing in a room with a group of men in white lab coats. The men typed away furiously at the keyboards, checking the monitors occasionally. James' stomach flipped and his mind stopped as he realized where he was.

A fucking test tube.

Whatever the liquid was that James was dunked in, it dulled his senses. He could barely hear anything but muffled sounds outside of the glass and he definitely couldn't smell anything. But he could see. Another figure entered the room with the man from Department K. James couldn't fully make out the man's appearance but noted one thing. Even in the darkness of the room, James could tell that he was pale.

The pale man exchanged words with some of the scientists. The pale man's voice sounded like gravel mixed with the pounding of a bass drum. After he spoke, James heard sounds in the liquid that sounding like drills starting up. Moments later, James realized that they were exactly what they sounded like. The drills buried into James' skin and contacted the bone. Another drill lowered in front of James' face and dug itself between his eyes. James could only feel slight pain sensations when they entered and detached from his body. Blood began to fill the tank James was in. He wasn't healing.

Tubes followed the drills and entered the holes they had left behind, catching hold onto James' bones. James attempted to move, but the small tubes and his restraints held him tightly. The next thing James felt completely bypassed whatever sense dulling properties the liquid possessed.

The searing heat that hit James' bones caused him to scream but once again, no one seemed to hear his screams. The intensity of the pain increased exponentially after the first wave. The heated substance passed through James' skin and laid on top of his bones. To James' relief, they hadn't touched his skull...but they would now. The heated substance pumped through the tubes and when it touched James' forehead, he screamed until the sound he made turned into a howl. As it continued to cover his skull, James felt his body give out and the world turn to black.

-/-

**Holding Cell**

James' fingernails dug into the ground as pain slapped him awake. His entire body felt weak, enormously heavy and stiff. He must've pissed himself the way the room stank of urine. It hurt him even to blink. To think. He didn't even know where the hell he was anymore. His mind was in itself, broken. The only thing he remembered was the pain of whatever he had just gone through. That and his family. Where were Mariko and Little John? James tried to pick himself up and met more restraints. James looked down and saw his wrists chained to the floor. Growling, James pulled as hard as he could, but the chains wouldn't budge. Maybe if unsheathed his claws and cut himself loose...

James' claws popped through his knuckles and at first sight, James was stunned. The claws jutting out of his hands were a shiny metal, razor sharp and shaped like smooth knives. The pain from unsheathing his claws was foreign. James' bone claws ripped through his flesh. These new metal-coated claws sliced. Before James could attempt to try out his new claws on his shackles, the door to his cell opened and the man from Department K entered.

"Ah, you're awake, pissed all over the place...very good." he said softly. The man glanced down at James' claws. "And you discovered your new toys." James snarled.

"Where is my family!?" The man from Department K folded his arms.

"They're safe and unharmed. Our very own Dog is looking after them." he said. James frowned.

"Dog..." he growled softly.

"Yes." the man from Department K said. "And so long as you cooperate, he'll remain on guard orders...and not attack. Believe me, he's been wanting to split the skull of that baby boy of yours since we got back to facility. You two don't like each other much, huh?" the man said. James glowered.

"If that motherfucker breathes on my family, I will break out of here and kill every living thing in this compound."

"And if you don't cooperate, you'll lose the last two things on this Earth that you care about besides yourself. Don't be a fool." the man said. "I have one very important task for you. After that's finished, I'll let your family go. Do we have a deal?" the man said.

James spat into a corner. He hated this man. While he sat here joking, Mariko and Little John were under the murderous gaze of Dog. If he did decide that he wanted to murder this man and his entire staff, then Dog would rush to meet him, but only after killing his killing his family in the most brutal fashion he could fathom. He had no choice...

"We do." James nodded begrudgingly. The man from Department K smiled, that sly, snake-like grin.

"Good."


End file.
